The Stepmother's Excuse
by Maleficent Angel
Summary: Why was the stepmother an evil old crone? Prelude to Cinderella. COMPLETE
1. Happy Families

**All characters remain the property of Disney. As do the recognisable events. Unless of course they feel like giving me the rights to the movie of course...**

Eve Labeau had been married for only six months when she found out she was pregnant with her first child. She knew that Pierre would be delighted and as she gazed out of the window on a brisk September morning she thought about how best to break the news to him. She was only twenty, but had settled in easily to the life she had chosen for herself. The only daughter of an old noble family in Burgundy, she had no choice but to marry the first rich man who had asked her, due to her family's relative poverty since the last war. She was a proud woman, but had no illusions over why she had married Pierre. Her family had needed the money. Pierre was thirty-five, handsome, rich and a former soldier. He was also slightly disabled, and needed a stick to walk any distance. This had made him less of a catch for the richer women in the province, but Eve was more than prepared to make a few allowances for imperfection in order to guarantee her a decent standard of living. Her mother had been ill before she had married Pierre and had since died. Her father had always been distant and had refused to support her any longer. Besides, she had always admired Pierre and marrying him had been something of a dream come true. She knew that Pierre loved her, and was more than half in love with him. He was so kind to her, and treated her like a porcelain doll that may be destroyed with anything other than the most gentle of words and touches.

Eve watched as Pierre rode into the estate on his black horse. He was truly stunning. She lowered herself from the windowsill and rushed to meet him at the door. Dismissing the butler with a wave of her hand, she pulled open the front door and ran to Pierre.

"Eve, my dear, what's the matter?" asked Pierre, unaccustomed to such a display from his wife. He pulled her into his arms, then was pleasantly surprised when she pulled his head down to hers for a kiss. "Whatever's wrong, I'm delighted at its effect," said Pierre when she let him up for air. The servants had gathered at the door to greet their master and were trying unsuccessfully to hide embarrassed smiles.

"I have something to tell you," whispered Eve, and whispered fervently into his ear. Pierre stepped back from his wife, looked her up and down, then smiled and pulled her back into his arms. "The baby's due in April."

Christmas came and went, as did the spring. Now heavily pregnant, Eve retired to her rooms and was visited only by the servants and Pierre. Pierre would spend hours sitting with her, gently kissing her hair and stroking her swollen stomach. One night, as they sat in front of the fire, Pierre turned Eve's face towards him.

"What do you think of Richard for a name?"

"For a girl?"

"Well, maybe not. It could be a boy!"

"Richard for a boy then. And for a girl? How about Drizella – it was my mother's name."

"Drizella it is." Pierre cuddled her again. "I hope it is a girl. And I hope she has your looks, my eyes, and your long brown hair."

Two weeks later, Eve was sewing in the library when she felt a pain shooting through her side. She shrieked for help, and within minutes a doctor had been sent for and her servants were carrying her through to her dressing room. Drizella was born four hours later on the 4th April.

Pierre was delighted with his daughter, and divided his free time between holding Drizella and making love to his beautiful, clever young wife. Eve had thought Pierre affectionate before, but now realised the full extent of his passion for her. Before long the inevitable occurred and Eve once again had to break the news of an impending birth to her husband. This time, they decided on Richard for a boy and Anastasia for a girl.

Anastasia was born on the 19th May, just over a year after her sister. The effect of two babies in the house was beginning to take its toll on Eve, with Pierre eventually offering a helping hand with the children before deciding a few hours later to hire a governess. Eve rejoiced at her new found freedom from the children and waited with baited breath each night for Pierre to return from the barracks where he trained raw recruits in swordsmanship. And so, for three long years, the Labeau's lived in the bliss of those blessed with two beautiful daughters and a governess who looked after them.


	2. Drizella's tantrum

Drizella ran into the parlour on a bright June morning with Anastasia's new doll. Drizella had broken the doll's arm and Anastasia was wailing somewhere in the background. Eve glared at Drizella and asked her to drop the doll. In temper, Drizella threw it to the floor and the doll's pretty face smashed on the tiles. Eve felt sick to her stomach and struck Drizella on the hand. Drizella stuck her tongue out at her mother and ran out of the room. Anastasia was waiting in the hall and ran to her mother. When she drew close to the doll, she turned it over to pick it up. When Anastasia saw the doll's face she burst out crying. Eve picked her up and cuddled her for a moment, then crossed to the chaise and sat down with her child. Stroking Anastasia's hair for a while, she waited for the girl to fall asleep and lay her on the chaise. Picking up the remains of the doll, she left to find Drizella.

Eve found Drizella in the library, sobbing onto Pierre's shoulder. He had his head on hers and was facing away from the door.

"She hit me!" screeched Drizella, pointing at Eve. Pierre half turned, regarded eve from the corner of his eye, then turned back to face the far wall.

"Go to your room Drizella. Your mother and I need to talk." Drizella dropped down, smiled triumphantly at her mother, then stomped off upstairs. "Well?" asked Pierre, still facing the wall.

"She smashed Anastasia's doll, then when I asked her to put it down she threw it at the floor deliberately in order to break it some more!"

"It was only a doll."

"But she..."

"It was only a doll and yet you hit our daughter. How can you justify hitting her over such a trivial matter?"

"You were not there – you have no idea. The manner – she's become so self-centred and is far too used to getting her own way and bullying Anastasia."

"Has she ever hit Anastasia?" Pierre turned around with a fierce look in his eyes. "Has she?" he spat.

"Not that I know of," replied Eve. She was liking this conversation less and less and knew there was no way she'd win the inevitable argument that would soon follow. Pierre doted on Drizella and frequently spoiled the girl with clothes, dolls and treats. She had her own horse despite the fact she couldn't ride it and he had been about to buy a dog for her last birthday until Eve had (quickly) acquired a kitten. Eve hated dogs. She hadn't realised that Pierre hated cats until she'd already bought Smoky. Pierre had taken one look and christened it Lucifer. Lucifer had stuck as the cat's name since that day.

"But you thought it was fine to hit Drizella."

"It was a tap on the hand!"

"She's only a child!"

"You always take her side. You always spoil her rotten. She was facetious and rude and probably didn't cry until she saw you, just to win your sympathy! You have no idea..." she was shouting now, unwilling to be drowned out by her husband, "you have no idea how she behaves when you're not around. Why, yesterday she..."

"She is only a child!" shouted Pierre, now face to face with his wife. Both stopped for a breath for a moment.

"Fine," said Eve calmly, "then you can take this," Eve gave Pierre the remains of the doll, "to Anastasia and explain to her that her sister is only a child and therefore has every right to destroy her birthday present. I will now leave to go and buy Anastasia a replacement. You no doubt will leave later to buy Drizella three dolls in order to placate her temper and prove once again that you prefer her to either Anastasia or myself!" Eve turned and tried to storm off, but Pierre grabbed hold of her right arm.

"Don't ever say that!" Pierre spun Eve around to face him and clung to her other arm as well.

"Let go of me!" shrieked Eve.

"Don't ever say that again!" unintentionally, Pierre shook Eve, hard.

"You're hurting!" Eve struggled against Pierre. He suddenly realised what he was doing.

"I love you..."

"Let go, let go, let GO!" screamed Eve, startling the maid who had just walked in. Pierre released her in shock and Eve ran out of the room. Pierre stood helplessly in the library for a moment, then turned to the maid.

"Get out!" He collapsed into a chair and poured himself a brandy. What had just happened? Drizella had sworn she'd done nothing wrong, but he could hardly call his wife a liar. And now Eve was scared of him. He's hurt her, far worse than Eve could have hurt Drizella. How could he make this right? Pierre looked down at the broken doll in his hands, and stroked the matted brown hair softly.

Eve bolted out of the house, her purse clutched in her hand. It was a brilliantly sunny afternoon, which made the events of the last hour seem even less real. Her right arm throbbed with pain, her throat hurt and she was fighting back tears. I'll just buy her another doll, thought Eve, then lock myself in the guestroom for the night. He won't be able to get to me there.

Eve could hardly believe that her beautiful, perfect family had turned into this. One daughter too shy to speak to anyone other than her mother, the other a jumped up little madam spoiled by her father. Pierre was becoming more distant, preferring to spoil the children rather than spend time with her. He's started to come home later and later, stopping to arrange dresses and buy gifts for both girls, but mainly for Drizella. Eve had taken to following him as he left the barracks as she'd suspected he'd been seeing another woman, but had found he had genuinely been buying presents for the girls. Then of course, he was spending his time after buying the presents in the local tavern, drinking with the soldiers. She'd spent many an evening hiding in the shadows, watching her husband as he drank his way through their money, before running slightly ahead of him, just out of sight, in order to arrive home moments before he did. And what on Earth had she become?

On arriving at town, she bought the prettiest doll in the toyshop, and turned to head back to the house. Ahead of her, the regiment was making its way back to barracks. They were a magnificent sight, blue-clad on chestnut bays, their swords slung low at their waists. They passed quickly, the sound of hooves fading into the distance. She imagined Pierre in that uniform. Riding high until that accident during the war had weakened his leg. He'd been told never to ride again and had been devastated. He'd stayed on at the barracks to teach swordfighting, but knew that soon he would be dismissed and given his soldier's pension. Pierre's pride refused to allow his health to win, and he forced his body to endure pain every day in order to keep his position in the regiment.

A thunder of hooves interrupted her thoughts. A tall man was riding into town. Eve drew back into the shadows, hiding from the figure. The man rode to the toyshop and pulled off his hat. It was Pierre. He leaned down and knocked on the door. The toymaker came to the door.

"Have you seen my wife?"

"Yes captain, she was here earlier. Is something wrong sir?"

"No, but thank you. Thank you." Pierre circled the horse, with difficulty, to face the road back to the house. He waited for the toymaker to leave, then called "Eve?" His voice echoed around the square. "Eve!" Again, no answer. Eve drew further into the shadows and turned her face from the square, sidling down a lane to the road behind. She tipped over a piece of wood and, startled by the noise, ran blindly away from the square. Pierre had heard the noise, and froze. "Eve!" he called, and the sound rang through the now empty square.


	3. Finding out the worst

Eve ran until she reached the wheat fields beyond the town. Panicked now, she slid into a ditch and lay there to catch her breath. Panting, she started to cry. She had no idea why she was still running, or why she hadn't answered Pierre. He wouldn't hurt her again, he couldn't... Exhausted, Eve drifted off to sleep.

It was late by the time Pierre arrived back at the house, the effort of riding the horse tiring him more than he cared to admit right now. He burst through the front door, and reached for the doorman, clutching the jacket's lapels.

"Has my wife returned yet?"

"No sir."

"Wake the entire household. The children's governess must watch over them, but every other servant is to comb the town and the surrounding area until you find her! Find some torches, quickly!"

The next morning, the search for Eve proving fruitless, Pierre was forced to allow the exhausted servants to take some rest. He prepared breakfast for himself and the two girls. Over the meal, he realised just what Eve had meant about Drizella. There was a certain amount of cockiness about her, a certain disregard for the rules. He had always thought it may be some of her mother's spirit, but now wondered whether he had spoiled the girl. He had taken her side against Eve on occasion. Now he had to put things right, somehow. But to do that, he needed to find Eve because she was the only person who could help him now. Despairing, he started to cry. Drizella looked up to her father and smiled.

"What's the matter?"

"I miss your mother, Drizella."

"I don't," said Drizella, biting into a croissant. Pierre looked at Drizella in shock. There was no doubt about it – Drizella genuinely didn't miss her mother and was very probably hoping she wouldn't return.

"Get to your room!"

"In a moment," said Drizella, greedily reaching for another croissant.

"Now!" shouted Pierre. Drizella stopped and looked shocked for a moment, then started crying. She walked towards her father. Pierre noticed for the first time she was quite capable of turning on the tears just to get him to comfort her and escape punishment. He stood and backed away from her. "Get to your room, now," he repeated calmly, pointing upstairs. Drizella looked as though she might argue, but instead turned and fled from the room. Pierre sat down, shaking slightly. He stared straight ahead. He started as a small hand reached up and touched his face. Anastasia lifted her other hand and cradled her father's face. He lifted her up onto his knee and held her tightly. Hot tears fell into her deep red hair.

"Don't worry Papa. Mama make it all better," cooed Anastasia. Pierre's sobs redoubled – those were the first words she'd spoken to him since she'd first learned to speak.

Eve awoke, freezing cold and damp with dew. She stood up slowly, finding she was dizzy. Stumbling, she started to make her way home to her children, half hoping that Pierre would not be there.

The maid was conducting a second search of the grounds when she noticed Eve making her way up the road and immediately ran out to greet her. Eve slumped to the ground as the maid approached, allowing herself to be half-helped, half-dragged toward the house. As the pair entered, the maid shouted for help. The doorman and Pierre appeared from different doors.

"Eve!" Pierre ran to his wife and picked her up into his arms. Eve struggled for a moment, but then lay still and started to cry. Pierre turned to the servants, "Leave us!" He carried his wife into the parlour and lay her on a chaise. He left to retrieve a bowl of warm water and a cloth, but returned quickly so as not to abandon Eve for too long.

"Pierre..." whispered Eve, as he placed a warm cloth to her forehead, "please don't."

"Does it hurt?"

"No, but I don't want you..." she broke off and started crying again. She knew she was never going to stop crying if Pierre was near her, the memory of their argument was still too strong. Pierre looked as though he might leave, but instead knelt by her head and stroked her hair softly.

"I'm not leaving your side. I am sorry I hurt you. You were right about Drizella – you were right about everything."

"Pierre, please, I just need a little time. Please leave me alone!"

"Time is one thing we don't have," said Pierre. "Just let me explain," he added, as Eve's eyes widened in horror.

Pierre went on to explain how he'd felt himself growing weaker over the last few weeks. He'd been vomiting blood for over a week and the family physician had advised him to place his affairs in order. Eve listened in stunned silence, before breaking down in tears.

It took five months for Pierre to die, slowly becoming weaker and weaker and finally retiring to his room and never venturing out. Eve spent most of her time by his side, until Pierre became too weak to remain awake for extended periods of time. Pierre died peacefully at last in his sleep, leaving Eve distraught and with little of his pension from the army. Eve buried Pierre in his family crypt at the cemetery. The sun refused to hide its face and shone brightly on the black coffin and funeral procession. As the gates of the crypt swung closed a final time, Eve started to cry. Anastasia felt her mother shaking and cuddled into her hand. Drizella stood staring at the crypt, hand clasped firmly behind her back and glaring occasionally at her mother as if this was all her fault. Finally, exhausted, Eve trouped the family home to grieve for Pierre.

As the months passed, it become painfully clear just how much damage Pierre's drinking and expenditure on the girls had done to the Labeau income. Pierre's meagre army pension barely covered living expenses and with little saved money, one by one Eve was forced to dismiss the servants. It was with a certain delight that Eve dismissed the governess however, a woman Eve had long suspected of being responsible for Drizella's foul disposition. She noted the pitiful look on Drizella's face as the governess left and hoped it was not too late to rebuild her relationship with her daughter.


	4. Moving On

The chateau stood bare, the high white walls stretching upwards to blend with the domed ceiling of the entrance hall. A few bluebottles buzzed impotently at the glass, as though their colliding with the glass would somehow force it to disappear, freeing the insects. Hot air filled every room, a heavy silence descending through the building suppressing life and forcing all who entered to speak in hushed voices lest they awaken the predator within.

A workman shuffled in through the main doors, crossing the hallway and vanishing into a side room. He appeared moments later with a large crate, apparently stuffed with candlesticks. The workman took his load outside and lifted it onto the waiting cart, signalling to the driver that the loading was finished. The cart jerked to a start, then the two aged horses plodded slowly down the road towards the town. The workman watched it leave, then returned to the house. Cutting through the hallway and the dining room, he walked through the double doors to the garden and started towards the summerhouse. Inside, Eve sat watching the sunset and cradling Anastasia in her lap. Drizella sat to her left, reading a book of fairy tales and playing with the end of one of her plaited pigtails. It had been three years from Pierre's death and Drizella was now seven years old. Eve had worked hard to stretch Pierre's pension to breaking point in order to educate the girls and buy them new clothes and books. Drizella tended to sulk less now she was older and the old dismissive attitude towards her mother was gone. If anything, Drizella was now over-protective of her time with her mother, pushing Anastasia aside in order to get her mother's attention. Eve did not wholly approve of this behaviour, but she was pleased that her eldest daughter now took pains to seek her out and spend time with her. Drizella reminded Eve of herself at that age – her nose always stuck in a book, clinging to her mother whenever she could, quietly confident she could achieve any aim. Anastasia, on the other hand, reminded Eve of Pierre. She was quieter than her sister and had a definite streak of "tomboy" in her. Eve had often found Anastasia in the garden climbing trees or collecting insects and worms. Anastasia had, as a result, fewer 'good' clothes than Drizella – most of Anastasia's dresses being hand-me-downs from Drizella that Anastasia was allowed to go out and play in. Anastasia had Pierre's charm and looks. Drizella seemed to have her mother's intelligence.

The workman drew level with the summerhouse and coughed politely.

"Please ma'am, the cart has left and you did tell me to call you when it did."

"Thank you, Jacques. Anastasia! Wake up Anastasia!" Anastasia uncurled sleepily from her mother's lap. Drizella closed her book.

"Mother do we have to leave?" asked Drizella.

"Please don't start now Drizella – you know we must! Jacques, bring the carriage around to the front of the house. Monsieur Vigeland did promise we could use it this one last time for our final journey into town." Jacques nodded, half-bowed and left the summerhouse. Eve took Drizella's hand in her right hand, and Anastasia's in her left. They walked together into the chateau and took a last look around the impressive hallway. Eve sighed, "well, goodbye old friend!"

"Goodbye house!" said Anastasia, not really understanding why she did so. Drizella glanced around the hallway and seemed to be trying to memorise every last detail of the room. She shrugged and turned her head to the side to look at Eve.

"It's only a house." Somehow aware that more than this was expected of her and that her mother was tense, Drizella looked up at the ceiling and the plaster detail around the hanging chandelier. An angel caught her eye. "Goodbye angel," she said softly. Eve smiled at Drizella and led the two girls out of the door for the last time.

In the carriage, on the way to their small, peasant's cottage in the town, Eve had time to reflect on the last three years. It had become painfully obvious after dismissing their last servant that Pierre's army pension was not going to support Eve and the girls throughout the rest of their lives. Maintaining the large chateau was too much work for Eve alone and she had been forced to take the decision to sell the chateau. Edward Vigeland, a visiting Dane, had business in the area and had jumped at the chance to buy the mansion at what Eve considered to be a fair price. She was aware that had time permitted she could have received a larger payment for the house, but time never permits where money is concerned. The cottage she had bought was not ideal, but it was in the middle of the town and it was cheap, leaving some money after paying her remaining debts to ensure the family could at least eat for the next few months. She would no longer require servants or a carriage and that itself would negate the need for a horse and the expense of a groom. Drizella had fought viciously to keep her horse, but had in the end accepted the fact she'd have to be parted from him.

A plaintive mewing from a cage on the seat next to Anastasia interrupted Eve's thoughts. She'd brought Lucifer, knowing that he'd grow fat on the mice and rats in the town. Eve leaned over and tickled Lucifer under the chin through the bars of the cage, causing a tirade of purring and mewing to begin.

"Oh Lucifer, go to sleep! It's not far now, I promise you."

"He smells funny mother," commented Drizella.

"He smells fine Drizella. There – look the town!" Eve pointed out of the window at the houses and shops coming into view around the corner. The girls had rarely ventured into town, Pierre and Eve both being rather over-protective parents who wanted to avoid the influence of a town on their precious daughters. The girls fought for the windows, each trying to gain the best view of the tall houses, beggars, butchers, bakers and tradesmen peddling their wares. Of course, both girls found the richer townsfolk more interesting, marvelling at their expensive clothes and jewellery. Eve grimaced at the memory of selling most of her jewels a few months earlier and thanked whichever god was looking after her now that she had not had to sell the girls' necklaces that Pierre had bought them shortly before he died.

They arrived at the cottage within an hour of leaving the chateau. The cart with their possessions had arrived earlier and the workmen had already started unloading the few items Eve had not sold. A few hours later, the workmen and Jacques long gone, the girls tucked into their new beds and the house in a reasonable order, Eve stood at the front door and watched as the townsfolk swarmed passed her door. She looked up in awe at the palace in the centre of the town – it towered over the surroundings, reminding her of how insignificant her family had become. Her parents had died some years ago now, but she still felt she'd let them down by becoming a virtual peasant thanks to her unfortunate husband's poor control of the family fortune. She felt a (now rare) rush of tears at the memory of Pierre, but was interrupted from her miserable reverie by Lucifer curling around her legs. She scooped him up and held him against her chest, burying her face in his fur and listening to his purring. Lucifer decided that he'd been cuddled enough and jumped down after a few minutes to go and sleep on Anastasia's bed. Eve took one more glance around the street, shut the door and sighed. Tomorrow she would need to find a job as a seamstress, cleaner, or something appropriate. She wasn't entirely sure what jobs were available to a widow with two dependent daughters, though she did have some clear ideas about what she was and was not prepared to do in order to meet the bills. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she could decide how to survive. For tonight, she was content that her family was safe and their home secure. Eve crossed the small living room and climbed the rickety stairs to her bedroom. She threw herself facedown on the bed and within minutes was fast asleep.


	5. The invitation

It was now a year since the Labeau family had moved to the townhouse, surviving on a pension and the pittance Eve brought to the house working for a seamstress in the town. Eve walked home in pouring rain, her hair flat and uncurling from the pins that had until recently held it in place. Her rich clothes had long been spoiled through working and she now looked every inch the working peasant woman and nothing like the society-lady she had been while Pierre was alive. This day found her sullen and depressed, but she refused to cry as she waded through the mud of the main road. Life had to get better soon, she thought, it could not possibly get worse...

When Eve opened the door to her home, she found that life had indeed managed to get worse. Drizella and Anastasia, always open to mischief when left alone at home, had decided to play dress-up with Eve's remaining clothes. Eve knew this because most of the clothes were now scattered all over the floor, some of them torn, with Lucifer asleep on a black velvet dress she had kept hidden in her wardrobe and been quite fond of, right up to the point it was covered in grey cat fur. Eve slammed the door with as much anger as she could, finding some release in the pointless action. She heard a rustling from the back room – ah good, the girls were still awake. Pulling off her boots and shedding as much mud-covered clothing as possible by the door, Eve braced herself for an argument. She walked into the room that Drizella and Anastasia shared.

The girls had tried desperately to remove the clothes they were wearing, but to no avail. Anastasia was laced into a forest-green dress and Drizella was sporting a red number. Eve glared at her daughters for a few minutes as they tried to walk towards her, dresses trailing two foot of material behind them and both holding handfuls of satin and chiffon to stop themselves falling over the front of the dresses. Eve looked at them again – at least they had chosen her 'good' dresses to play in, those she had bought while her life still meant something. That showed good fashion sense if nothing else. She took in the state of their hair and the lopsided appearance of the dresses. With nothing to fill the bodices, the girls had stuffed the dresses with stockings and undergarments at the front to make them stand out. Eve noticed a black stocking protruding out of the top of Anastasia's dress. Faced with two fashion victims, Eve reacted in the only way she could. She pulled the girls towards her, embraced them and laughed.

The next day, soaked once more and again caked in mud, Eve decided to buy some bread on her way home. This meant she was forced to walk to the far side of the town before returning home. The walk convinced Eve that at some point she was going to have to train the girls to go shopping for her, sooner rather than later. On her way back from the baker's, Eve took the longer route home along the cobbled street, rather than her usual shortcut along a mud path. With no warning, a carriage rattled around the corner in front of her, teetering on two wheels. She heard the groom shout a warning as she dived for a doorway and safety. The carriage landed heavily on its side, the groom standing near it having leaped clear moments before it tipped. A fat man of around fifty with white hair emerged from the carriage door, hauling himself upwards and climbing down over the roof.

"You were right Dubois, definitely in need of replacing that young colt! Far too undisciplined. Are you alright madam?" The man had now approached Eve who was seated in the doorway of a house and was offering her his hand.

"Yes, um, thank you," she replied, a little shaken by the experience. The groom, who Eve guessed was Dubois, was trying to cut the horse loose from the carriage. She took the offered help and stood, all the while watching Dubois. Finally, she turned to the man in front of her and smiled. He started, clearly taken aback by something.

"Good Lord – you're not Madam Labeau are you? Pierre Labeau's wife?" Eve stopped smiling instantly.

"Yes – though I don't believe I have met you before, sir," replied Eve. More to the point, thought Eve, I don't think I have ever met you in a state where I would be recognisable to you now, looking like this.

"General Léglise my lady – Pierre and I were captains together, long ago. I had heard you'd fallen on hard times, but dear lady! This simply will not do at all!" Eve vaguely remembered a captain with black hair of that name. He'd been a lot thinner back then, she was sure she was only twenty when they'd last met. She was twenty-eight now – how on Earth had he recognised her? Maybe I don't look so bad after all, thought Eve, cheering up immensely. She realised she was staring at the general.

"Yes, I think I do remember you now. I do hope your carriage can be repaired!"

"That is the least of your worries – now, allow me to escort you home. Dubois will sort out the carriage. I'm sure someone will help him – his sort usually have family in the town, and they will so want to help one of their own. They usually do..." he added, more to himself than to Eve. Eve took the General's arm and allowed him to escort her back to her door. She noticed his look of disgust at the meagre dwelling and tried to cover her embarrassment. The general rallied marvellously, inviting Eve to a soiree at his home in ten days' time. Eve vaguely remembered that the regiment occasionally met for drinks, but had agreed to attend without actually thinking seriously about it. The general had told her to expect his carriage to pick her up at seven o' clock and was walking away before Eve realised what she'd done. Who was going to look after the girls? Could she get a day off work? And most important of all, given the girls' destruction of her wardrobe the day before, what _was_ she going to wear?


	6. Gossips and Madmen

Ten days passed quickly and Eve found herself dressed in the black velvet gown she'd rescued from the floor, still occasionally finding cat hair (despite having washed the dress twice) and picking it off nonchalantly while waiting for her carriage. Thankfully, fashions for mourning wear had not changed much in the last few years and she could claim to still be in mourning to cover up the fact all of her dresses were now too far out of fashion to wear to a general's soiree. Behind her, Anastasia and Drizella played with dolls in front of the fire, watched over by the seamstress Eve worked for, Marie. Eve shifted uncomfortably in the window – it had been a long time since she'd been laced up quite so tightly and the corset she was wearing was uncomfortable. Outside, the balmy autumn sunshine faded to a low grey haze, plunging the streets into gloom. It was just seven o' clock, but Eve was already bored of waiting. Finally, she heard a rattle of carriage wheels and saw Dubois haphazardly guiding General Léglise's carriage to her door. She frowned when she saw the manner of his driving and was a little concerned for her safety. Nevertheless, Eve had decided to use this opportunity to seek out allies and hopefully to find work as a teacher or governess for some noble woman's children. She left the window, kissed the girls and left the house just as Dubois pulled up the horse. Dubois jumped down, a little too pleased to be back on firm ground for Eve's liking, and opened the door for her. Eve took a seat while Dubois settled himself back on top of the carriage. As the carriage groaned and rattled back into motion, Eve crossed herself and looked upwards, imploring God to make sure that, just for the next thirty minutes, the colt pulling the carriage would not take it into its head to canter off around the town.

Despite her predictions of doom, Eve arrived at the general's home in one piece and relatively unscathed by the journey. The relief on Dubois' face as he opened the door for her did little to comfort her however – he was her ride home tonight as well. She thanked Dubois, then looked up at the building General Léglise called home. The stately chateau rose above her, reminding her of her parents' home, although on a much grander scale. The general was clearly a very rich man. Unbidden, her late mother's advice on picking a suitable husband came back to her – "looks fade, but a rich man will make you a rich wife." Well, almost right, mother. And I'm sure the general is already married. However if he's not... Eve thought for a moment about the implications of marrying the general and pulled a face in disgust at the memory of his fat, red face with its mane of white hair. There are limits, she thought, however rich he is. She reached up for the door-knocker and rapped twice, raising a shout from within. A tired-looking servant opened the door for her and offered to take her cloak, which she slipped off without a word. Not bad, thought Eve, taking in the heavily decorated hall. Soldiers of the regiment in full uniform and a multitude of ladies in full evening dress surrounded her. General Léglise arrived moments later, together with a round, white-haired woman of a similar age to himself. Eve breathed a sigh of relief as her last suspicions about the general's invitation fled from her mind.

"Madam Labeau – so pleased you could make it my dear! Have you met my wife Winifred? Winnie, Madam Labeau was Pierre's wife – you remember Pierre don't you? Terribly sad business, simply ghastly, don't know how you've coped. Well, must dash!" The general left quickly, leaving the two women staring at each other for a moment, before smiling and shaking hands.

"Pleased to meet you Madam Labeau."

"My thanks for your husband's kind invitation, Madam Léglise."

"Winifred! Please – one feels so old when always referred to as Madam!"

"Then I must insist you call me Eve."

"I will my dear, now there are some people who have been dying to meet you..."

Eve spent the next two hours being shepherded around from one group of military wives to another, forced to tell and re-tell the "simply ghastly" story of how she and the girls had survived since Pierre's death. There were promises of help and a few offers of menial jobs like housekeeper, and cook, and in one instance governess, but Eve could not shake her underlying hatred of being pitied and took few of the offers seriously. She realised she would be the centre of gossip for some time to come – having gossiped with some of these women before on other, less formal, occasions with Pierre. The general seemed to have invited the entire regiment, together with various nobles and their wives who were in some way connected to the regiment – in one case, a middle-aged landowner boasting that the only reason he was there was that he owned the stable the general's horse had been sired in. At last, when the dancing in the ballroom started, Eve found herself alone. She looked through the women she had met – none of which needed a governess for their children. She hoped the evening would not be a complete waste of time as she had been forced to pay Marie for her time with the girls tonight. Sighing, a little unsettled at the sight of so many happy couples waltzing around the ballroom, she sought out a quiet balcony where she could be alone with her thoughts. The balcony was quiet and had a view over the river, something she had not thought to look at for any length of time for some months. She gazed at the rippling water, the music and laughter in the background fading as she poured her energies into just watching the river. She switched off to the outside world and felt herself relax to the calm surrounding her. Her mental wanderings had deafened her to the approach of the general however and his sudden tap on her shoulder brought her back to herself with a start. The general was escorting a lieutenant towards her. Oh no, she thought, I've been set-up...

"Madam Labeau! You are not dancing! May I introduce my nephew, Carl Léglise?"

"Charmed," replied Eve flatly. The lieutenant grinned and offered her his hand. She smiled politely and placed her hand in his, giving the general a foul look as she swept passed and out onto the dance floor. The general laughed in response – he had been searching for a wife for Carl for some time and he hoped that Eve would fit the bill.

Eve however had other plans. While the Léglise family had enough money to impress her, their behaviour tonight had not. Carl was hopelessly drunk, embarrassing Eve with his attempts to waltz with her. On top of this, his wandering left hand was causing her some discomfort, not to mention embarrassment. She made her excuses after their second dance and quickly slipped back out to another balcony. After checking that she had not been followed, she drew the curtains behind her, a signal most people in polite society would have read as "please go away!" Eve made an irritated growl in the back of her throat and pummelled her fists into an innocent planter. She had at least another hour before it would be polite to leave and knew she was going to find that time unbearable. She gave a disgusted shriek and sat heavily on the balustrade, glaring out at the countryside with her arms folded. Eve rarely pouted, but when she did she could out-pout even Drizella.

A cough from her left forced her to turn around and for the first time she noticed the man standing at the corner of the balcony. He must have been behind the curtain, thought Eve. The figure was silhouetted against the lights in the ballroom and she was aware that he had the advantage here of being able to read her expression while she could see nothing of his face. He walked towards her slowly, stopping briefly to pull one curtain back to illuminate the balcony. Eve stood and clasped her hands behind her back, determined to regain at least some of her dignity. She watched as the man circled around her and looked up at him as he stood in front of her.

"Good evening madam. I don't think we have been introduced. My name is Raoul Tremaine. I was a captain in this regiment until two years ago. From what I have heard this evening, you must be the inimitable Madam Labeau – is that in fact the case?"

"Yes Monsieur, you are correct. If you would just excuse me I am feeling unwell and simply must leave," lied Eve easily, trying to pass Raoul. He spun around and caught her left hand in his right.

"One dance? Before you leave? I promise to escort you straight to your carriage if you still wish to leave." Raoul smiled, his brown eyes lighting up as he looked imploringly into Eve's eyes.

"Well," she started, taken aback at his smile, "perhaps just the one dance..."

As the couple danced, Raoul asked Eve if all he heard that evening was true. She could confirm that she was a widow with two dependent daughters and that she was currently working for a seamstress, but laughed when she heard herself described as a beggar crying for scraps to feed her half-starved children.

"I'm sorry – that is too much! Who told you that?" Raoul looked as though he might tell her, but Eve waved him into silence. "No, don't tell me – I shall probably be forced into gossiping with her again at some point this evening." She smiled at Raoul as he pulled her back towards him for the next dance. It was their sixth since Eve had agreed to spend just one dance with him, though she was not complaining too loudly. Raoul seemed genuinely interested in their conversation and the evening had improved considerably since their meeting. Eve noticed Carl slumped in a far corner, relieved that she had found another escort for the rest of the night. As their dance ended, Eve put a hand up to stop Raoul starting another dance with her.

"I must leave – I left the girls with Marie and I cannot be late home."

"Of course – may I escort you to your carriage?"

"Please do," answered Eve, shamelessly flirting as she knew she would probably never see Raoul again. He walked her out of the house and into the mews to the side of the building. Dubois saw them and quickly mounted the carriage.

"My thanks for a very pleasant evening monsieur."

"May I see you again, Eve?" She paused before replying.

"I don't see why not. Did you hear the rumour about where I live?" She laughed softly, enjoying Raoul's company.

"The poor quarter, wasn't it?" He laughed and put both hands on her waist. As he drew her closer, Eve's expression turned to one of mild alarm. Raoul stopped laughing and his face turned serious. "I have had a wonderful evening madam. It has been some time since I felt this happy – please may I kiss you goodnight?" Raoul stroked her face gently and looked into her eyes. Eve hesitated and Raoul took her silence as acquiescence, bending over slightly and pecking her lightly on the lips. He grinned broadly, turned and left without a word. Eve's stony expression did not change as she climbed into the carriage, nor while she was conveyed home. She did not flinch while thanking Marie and refused to comment when Anastasia asked if she had enjoyed her evening. Marie left soon after Eve's arrival, helping her to settle in the girls before she left. Alone in her bedroom, Eve looked up through the window to the moon. Eve nodded a greeting to Luna, and smiled.


	7. Betrayal

The harsh morning light awakened Eve, drawing a quiet curse from her lips. The party last night had been dire to say the least, but at least she had one fond memory. Thinking back on Raoul, she traced the outline of her lips gently with one hand. She allowed herself another smile, then stopped.

"Don't be pathetic," she scolded herself, pushing up out of bed and staggering to the dressing table. She fiercely combed through her hair while running through a mental checklist of how her mother would have expected her to behave last night. Kissing Raoul did not feature on the list.

Her day at work passed without incident, Marie commenting that Eve looked tired and digging for information whenever she could. Eve ignored any comments relating to who she had met, answering only those directly relating to anything but Raoul. She tried to stop herself obsessing over him, knowing that the more she tried to stop thinking about him, the more she was going to convince herself that there was more to his kiss than a simple thank-you-for-a-wonderful-evening. It _had_ been a wonderful evening... Scolding herself repeatedly for acting like a teenager, Eve threw herself into her mending work, finishing in record time; Marie was pleased with her work and let her leave early as a result.

Walking home, mind drifting again, Eve didn't notice the child in front of her until she had already collided with the girl and sent her sprawling to the ground. The girl shrieked and started to cry immediately, ignoring the help Eve offered to raise her back to her feet. A short, black-haired, well-dressed woman of around Eve's age approached, scowling at Eve for her clumsiness.

"There now my dear, let's take you back home. Your father shan't be long. Come now Cinderella." The girl trotted after the dark-haired woman, while Eve could do nothing but watch them leave.

"Sorry!" she called after the pair, watching as they climbed into a carriage. A tall bundle of parcels, apparently propelled by their own feet, approached the carriage, the woman jumping out to help unload them. The parcels were eventually packed safely away and the man carrying them turned back to the woman briefly. Eve's heart missed a beat when she recognised Raoul and risked stopping completely when she saw him reach up to kiss the little girl on the forehead. She watched in horror as he carefully helped the dark-haired woman into the carriage, climbing in behind her and drawing the curtains. He's married, she thought, with a child! I've been such a fool! Eve refused to allow herself to care about this, refused to admit he had hurt her. She turned and walked home, only briefly considering running there, locking the door and refusing to ever leave again.

The two sisters received many harsh words off Eve that afternoon, not all of them deserved. They were relieved when she sent them to bed early. For the most part however, she remained straight-faced, refusing to laugh, cry, smile or appear angry all afternoon. When night came, and with it a knock at the door, the effort of controlling her emotions was starting to tell on Eve's patience.

"Yes?" she enquired to the night.

"Madam Labeau, may I come in?" asked Raoul, pushing passed her and into the house. "The general was right – this is far too small a place for a lady such as yourself."

"May I ask why you have called?" Eve folded her arms and stared impassively at Monsieur Tremaine. She had not expected Raoul to come and see her so soon after the party, particularly as she had seen him out with his wife and child earlier. She waited for his response.

"Last night – I told you I would be interested in seeing you again," he replied, confused by her reaction.

"Yes, but I am sure that your charming blonde daughter and her equally stunning mother will be waiting for you at home. If you would excuse me monsieur, it is very late and my daughters are already in bed. I would very much appreciate it if you were to leave now."

"May I ask when you saw my daughter?"

"Today, while you were out in your carriage with your lady." Eve swallowed to suppress the tight feeling in her chest that had returned with the memory of Raoul's betrayal.

"There's something you need to know, madam." Raoul, noticing the hurt in Eve's eyes tried to take her hands in his, but she pulled away from him and backed to the door, opening it.

"Please leave."

"That was not my wife. It was my daughter's governess." Raoul walked towards Eve and took her arms gently in his hands, "my wife died when Cinderella was only two years old."

"If that is true, then why didn't you tell me last night? I told you everything about my family and you told me nothing of yours! I didn't even know you had been married, let alone that you have a daughter. I trusted you..." Eve trailed off, crushed by her own misjudgement, but also relieved that it was not a _married _man that had kissed her.

"My apologies for my misconduct madam." Eve looked down at that and closed her eyes. Raoul was a widower – that may at least explain why he had been so sympathetic when she had talked to him about Pierre last night. She was not prepared to let him get away with his omission yet however.

"Perhaps there was something else you forget to tell me? Did you leave the regiment of your own accord, or will I find out in six months time that you were dismissed after stealing the silver? Have you killed someone perhaps or are you in fact a confidence trickster?" Raoul gaped at her, unsure of quite how to answer.

"Of course not! The general would not have invited me if that had been the case! I am sorry if you feel you cannot trust me but believe me when I say that I would move Heaven and Earth if you would agree to forgive me and promise to see me again." He kneeled down and took her hands in his. "Please?"

She looked back at him and sighed softly.

"I forgive you. But I must ask – is there anything else I should know?"

"Not at the moment," answered Raoul truthfully. There was one other matter he would need to discuss with her, but only if their relationship became permanent.

"No. Either tell me the full truth now, or leave and never return." Eve folded her arms and looked at Raoul, refusing to move or speak until he answered her. Raoul's resolve failed before her glare and he scowled dramatically, deciding to tell her everything.

"At least close the door." She nodded, closed the door and settled in a chair by the fire. Raoul sat opposite her.

"Well?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You were not quite correct in addressing me as Monsieur Tremaine. My parents were Lord and Lady Tremaine of Burgundy. They passed away two years ago in an accident. I left the regiment to take up the lordship of my estates upon their deaths."

"Why are you living here and not Burgundy?"

"To be nearer the king – my father was a member of the court and I hope to follow in his footsteps."

"Why are you here tonight?" Eve looked at her hands, searching for the right words to explain that she was no longer of the right class to be considered a partner for the handsome lord. She was starting to wish she had not pressed him for this extra piece of information. Raoul seemed to understand the dilemma she was facing and kneeled in front of her, taking her hands in his.

"Because I spent last night in the company of an intelligent, beautiful woman who spoke to me as an equal and was offended when I dared to kiss her as all ladies should be on their first meeting with a gentleman. Because I know that this woman is devoted to her children and capable of running a home. And I know my dear," he added, impersonating General Léglise, "that you have been through a ghastly experience and survived unscathed." Raoul noticed Eve hiding a grin and stood, pacing back and forth in front of her in mockery of the general's behaviour last night. "Your story was simply breathtaking my dear and one cannot help but be impressed by your tenacity, what?" Raoul dropped his impersonation of the general and shrugged. "Besides, I heard the general telling his nephew that you were of good family and likely to make good breeding stock. Do you still have your own teeth? A strong back? Before I make any commitments I want to know what I'm buying, just like all good farmers..." Raoul had led her by the hand to the fire, and was pretending to examine her as one might examine a slave or cow one was about to buy. Eve pushed him away as he started to hold her right arm, checking for muscles.

"Enough! I refuse to have you discuss me like I was your property!" She half-grinned at Raoul, then remembered another of his comments. "Did the general really say I'd make good breeding stock?" she asked, highly offended. Eve placed her hands on her hips and stared petulantly at Raoul.

"Yes. He also said that Carl would have to make a good impression on you to win your hand. I take it he did not?"

"Not at all."

"Would you like to come to dinner tomorrow night?" Raoul asked quickly, before he lost his nerve. When Eve hesitated, he added "You can bring the girls with you – I would like to meet them. And you can meet Justine and decide whether she is my wife or not."

"Of course, we would be delighted," replied Eve, the fact Raoul was offering to introduce her to the dark-haired woman alleviating any remaining doubts she had on that front at least.

"Until tomorrow then, my lady," Raoul kissed Eve's hand lightly and bowed, before turning to leave the house.

"Wait!" Raoul turned on the doorstep. Eve ran up to Raoul, embraced him and pulled his head forward such that his lips were almost, but not quite, touching hers. "Promise me there's nothing else you need to tell me?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Above all Raoul, please keep your word!"

"Of course – to you at all times, on anything."

"Good," she whispered, half-closing her eyes. She watched Raoul anticipating the kiss and smiled. She pulled away quickly, leaving Raoul confused and standing just outside the door. She said "Goodnight!" brightly, then closed the door, leaving Raoul to shake his head, laugh, and head home.


	8. Dinner

Dinner was at the Tremaine household was an extravagant affair. The large dining room was decorated with fresh flowers and the family silver had been laid out for Lord Tremaine's honoured guests. An array of splendid dishes had been prepared, with more than enough food to feed only two adults and three children. Anastasia and Drizella sat either side of their mother, eating far too much rich food. Eve played nervously with her fork, finding herself without an appetite in the grand surroundings – acutely aware that tonight she would be going back to a small cottage in the poor end of town. Cinderella and her father were chatting animatedly, hands waving as Cinderella told Raoul about her latest horse-riding adventure. Eve had met Cinderella's governess, Justine, earlier in the evening and decided she was a vast improvement on her daughters' previous governess. Justine was strict and well educated – although she had been surprised to meet the "clumsy peasant" formally when Lord Tremaine had introduced Eve.

At a word from Raoul, Cinderella invited Anastasia and Drizella to go and play with Samson, her horse. Eve was relieved to have some time alone with Raoul, a thousand questions running through her mind about the house, his family and, perhaps most of all, his wife. She folded her napkin and placed her hands on her lap, looking politely at Raoul and waiting for him to start conversation. He smiled at her and stood, walking around the table to her side.

"I am sorry we have had so little time to talk. My daughter rarely takes the hint that it is time to leave and play."

"I have a similar problem with Anastasia. Drizella is all too happy to run off and read a book but Anastasia can be a little..."

"Clingy?" asked Raoul with a grin. Eve grinned back. "Just like Cinderella. And when I had visions of spending time alone with you that we may become better acquainted." He lifted one of Eve's hands in his, kissing it lightly. She pulled it back, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Perhaps it is better we have not been alone. I'm not sure I entirely trust you."

"Wonderful. Then you won't be too shocked if I forget myself later."

"Shocked, no. Infuriated, yes." She stood and walked away from Raoul, a little flustered. She needed to change the conversation, fast. She knew that Raoul was toying with her and would not really step out of line, but from the rapid pounding of her heart she doubted she could trust herself at the moment. "What was your wife like?"

"Fair-haired, stunningly beautiful and the light of my life. Her name was Psyche and she was my muse." Raoul paused and closed his eyes, thinking back to the day Psyche had died. "She was a Greek beauty, who could sing, dance and write poetry like no other."

"How did she die?"

"Consumption. She just faded away. The doctor suggested we move out from the town and take in the clearer air of the mountains. When she died, I could not return here for some time and stayed in my mountain villa for years, Justine and a few other servants my only company."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"I have been told that so many times, but it is infuriating when the person saying it has no idea of what you have been through. With you, I know you understand the pain I have gone through. The guilt." Raoul took her arm and guided her to the window. "I have to return to Burgundy next week for some time. It would mean a great deal to me if you would come to visit." Eve shook her head.

"I barely know you – I don't think it would be appropriate to..." Raoul spun her to face him and forced his lips to hers. She fought him for a moment, then gave in and raised her hand to caress his hair. Raoul gave a low moan and deepened the kiss, Eve responding despite herself. Finally, Raoul let her up for air.

"I thought I'd never care for anyone again after Psyche died. I spent years unable to talk to another woman, feeling I was betraying her with every word. And then you walked onto that balcony. Do you know how hard this is – wanting you and remembering her? Can you understand why this is so difficult?"

"Yes. I can. It's about as difficult as kissing a man while all you can think of is the father of your child and how very disappointed he'd be in you right now."

"We probably shouldn't do this again," said Raoul sadly. "It's too early, we feel too guilty..."

"Don't be ridiculous. We'd feel like this in ten years, or a hundred years. We should never have been left alone together."

"I should never have asked you to dance."

"I should never have accepted. Well, what are we to do? Two sinners, all alone together." Eve snaked a hand around Raoul's back and reached her other hand to his face. He touched her hand with his, bringing it to his lips and kissing it.

"Will you come to Burgundy?" he asked again, kissing her wrist. When Even hesitated, he nibbled her wrist gently, then stroked his hand up her arm to her neck. Raoul bent his head forward.

"When?" she asked, to stop him kissing her as much as she wanted to indicate her acceptance of his idea.

"We set off next Tuesday. I will need a few days to prepare for your arrival. I shall leave Françoise here to drive you – he knows the way. Leave the Friday after we do – I should have the servants whipped back into shape by then." He reached for her and held her, his heart beating furiously as if to explode. Eve wrapped her arms around him and buried her head into his chest. Suddenly, she pushed him away and took a step back.

"I can't do this. The girls rely on me to bring home money from that silly little job of mine and I cannot lose it because of you."

"I assumed you would bring the girls with you."

"You have no idea do you? If I leave to visit you, Marie would dismiss me and..."

"And I would be obligated to take care of you and your family. Not so bad now, is it?" He circled his arm around her waist again. I promise you that your daughters will not starve madam. Come to Burgundy with me."

"Yes," she whispered softly, as Raoul kissed her again. Almost immediately, Cinderella burst through the door of the dining room, bawling loudly. Raoul and Eve jumped away from each other, Eve hastily wiping her lipstick and Raoul running to Cinderella.

"What happened?"

"Drizella pulled my hair. She said it looked like straw and tried to pull it off my head!" Cinderella cried, bursting into renewed sobs. Drizella and Anastasia slithered into the room quietly, trying not to be noticed.

"Drizella! Explain yourself," demanded Eve.

"She wouldn't let me play with her doll! Then she hit me!" shouted Drizella.

"Yes I did too let you play with my doll!"

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"No you didn't!"

Eve looked apologetically at Raoul, who rolled his eyes at her. The two girls continued their argument. Eve turned to Anastasia and raised an eyebrow – Anastasia, always delighted to drop her sister in trouble, nodded.

"She did. But Drizella wanted all the dolls, not just one. So she started picking on Cinderella's hair. When she pulled it, Cinderella smacked her on the arm."

"Thank you, Anastasia. Would you wait in the garden please?" Eve walked over to Raoul and whispered something in his ear as Anastasia left. In unison, they picked up their respective bawling child and deposited them at opposite ends of the dining room on a chair, facing the wall. The argument stopped for the moment, they left to join Anastasia in the garden, with the briefest of instructions to Justine to look after the girls. As they walked, Eve touched Raoul's arm lightly. He stopped and looked at her.

"Yes?"

"I apologise for Drizella. She will be punished – I can assure you of that."

"You'll still come to Burgundy of course?"

"If the invitation is still open."

"My home is your home, dearest lady," he replied, pausing before opening the door to kiss her gently on the forehead. While Cinderella and Drizella sat indoors, both sulking and facing the wall, Raoul taught Anastasia to ride; Eve casting an approving eye over the lesson. Perhaps the party hadn't been such a bad idea after all.


	9. Temptation

Eve tried to focus her thoughts. She was tired, hot and on the verge of throwing one or both of her daughters out of the carriage. There was an uneasy peace at the moment – Anastasia and Drizella sulking at each other. Eve had spent the last hour reasoning with them, pleading with them and finally shouting at them to end their endless arguing. She saw Drizella shift her sitting position so that her back was ramrod straight against the carriage seat. Her foot 'accidentally' kicked Anastasia. Rather than snapping at Drizella, Anastasia settled herself on the edge of her seat, swinging her legs 'innocently' over the edge of the seat. Any second now, thought Eve.

"Ow!" shouted Drizella.

"You started it!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Mother!"

"Mother!"

"Driver – stop the carriage!" Eve shouted out of the window. The carriage pulled over and Eve jumped out, locking her squabbling offspring inside. She mounted next to the driver, Françoise shifting up to make room for her. Eve gave a grateful smile and carried on staring out at the passing countryside as Françoise cracked his whip and the carriage jerked into life. She tried not to think about what she was doing. She had packed up the girls and all their belongings of worth into the carriage, setting out on a two day journey to Burgundy to the home of a man she barely knew. She wondered if she was still sane – a few weeks ago she would have been appalled if someone had suggested she would be setting off to the home of a man on a whim. A darker part of her that she fought hard to control suggested she was hoping he would kiss her again during this trip, perhaps he would try something more. Her breeding and upbringing refusing this thought to go any further, she denied her darker side the luxury of dwelling on this fantasy. It was quite usual, she reminded herself, for noble families to visit one another without anything – like that – occurring. What would mother think, Eve thought, fanning herself. Inside the carriage, the war seemed to be drawing to a close, both girls realising that the attention they craved was unlikely to materialise if Eve could not actually see them fighting. Eve could hear frantic whispering – they were plotting something. She knew she would find out what it was eventually, so pushed the girls out of her mind.

The evening drew on, dusk giving the countryside a red glow. Eve could see a large, rambling farmhouse in the distance, the long drive to it their current destination. She knew that Raoul's family had owned land – this had to be the main estate house, the central meeting point for the farmers who would subsidise the lord's land. She looked up at the three storey building as they drew closer, admiring the red-brick structure as it loomed over her. A maid ran out as the carriage pulled up, curtseying to Eve and offering to help her down. Eve pointed to the carriage.

"My daughters and my cat are inside. I would like the cat taken to my room, but the girls are to be put to bed immediately without supper as they have been terribly behaved on the way here. Lucifer may have some warm milk."

"Yes ma'am," replied the maid, carrying out her orders. Eve headed towards the farmhouse, unsure of whether to let herself in. She was clearly expected, but where was Raoul?

On cue, a black horse thundered into the courtyard and drew up in front of Eve. Raoul performed an impressive leap from the horse's back, landing perfectly with sword drawn in a salute to Eve. She was impressed, but did not convey this to Raoul, raising an eyebrow.

"Dramatic, as always," she stated. Raoul threw his sword to the ground and crossed his arms huffily. Eve mimicked him.

"You're late," he said.

"If I'm late, blame your driver," replied Eve. She could hear the girls protesting as they were pulled into the house, sulking as always when told there would be no supper. Raoul looked as though he may be considering arguing, but opened his arms and held Eve's shoulders gently.

"I've missed you," he said quietly, leaning forward to kiss her. Eve backed away.

"Not in front of the servants," she whispered, shrugging off Raoul. He sighed impatiently and offered her his arm. Eve took it and allowed him to escort her into the farmhouse.

Raoul ushered Eve into the parlour, a musty red room which smelled of hops and was decorated heavily in dark furniture. He locked the parlour door behind him and took Eve in his arms.

"I have to object," she said quietly.

"There are no servants, I promise you," Raoul replied, backing off and opening the cupboards to prove he had no-one hidden there. He danced back to Eve and circled her waist with his arms. "Where were we?"

"I think I may have given you the wrong idea about me by coming here."

"You're not one of these terribly prudish, straight-laced town ladies who is going to claim our last passionate encounter was the result of too much sun, are you?"

"I was going to blame the wine, actually."

"Not even one kiss?" Raoul whined plaintively, looking hurt.

"Not even one," replied Eve. She knew that one kiss in a locked room with Raoul would be one kiss too many right now. She could picture Raoul kissing her and pulling her down onto the chaise, then her head started swimming and she shook herself to clear it. Raoul sighed, then unlocked the door.

"Come on then – I should show you to your room. You have had a long journey."

Eve examined the farmhouse carefully as she passed through it with Raoul. Antlers from hunted stags decorated the dark, wooden walls and the carpeted stairs wound upwards to the bedrooms. She knew the servants were watching her – she assumed she was one of the few women he had invited here. A large painting adorned the wall above the hallway. A blonde-haired woman was seated, holding a smiling baby girl on her lap. Behind the woman was a brown-haired, moustached man – Raoul, as he had been when Cinderella was a baby. Feeling a little intimidated by the face of Raoul's former wife, Eve looked away quickly and smiled as Raoul opened the bedroom door for her.

"My thanks, Lord Tremaine."

"My pleasure, Madam Labeau. Might I come in for a moment?" without waiting for an answer, Raoul entered the room. Eve hesitated before following him. Inside, Raoul was pulling the curtains open, revealing the sunset outside. "I thought you might appreciate the view," he said simply. Eve walked up to him and placed her hand gently on his arm.

"Thank-you."

"You really are quite beautiful, you know," said Raoul, tracing the curves of Eve's hair with his finger where the sunlight highlighted it. "Do one thing for me?"

"What?"

"Take your hair down. Right now – I want to see how long it is."

"I don't think I should," started Eve. She looked up at Raoul, and changed her mind. Sitting at the dressing table, Eve pulled her hair loose and shook it free of her usual tight style, allowing the brown locks to cascade down her back. She walked back to the window.

Raoul walked behind Eve and ran his hands down the length of her hair, stopping at her waist. She felt him stroke her hair twice more before he leaned forward and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest. Eve felt him pulled tight against her back, his heart pounding against her shoulder-blade. Raoul nuzzled into her neck, taking a length of hair in his hand before kissing the hair gently. He pulled a knife from a pocket.

"May I?" he asked Eve. Understanding, she nodded, an unusual thrill running through her as he played the knife next to her neck, cutting a small lock of hair as a keepsake. He released her instantly and left the room without a word, closing the door behind him. Eve waited as if expecting something more, then slipped out of her dress and prepared for bed.

The next day, Raoul insisted Eve join him horse-riding while the girls were entertained by Justine, Cinderella's governess. They rode to a field of wheat, laying down under a tree to shelter from the midday sun. Eve had insisted they lie down on opposite sides of the tree, rather than side to side.

"Why won't you kiss me?" asked Raoul.

"Because I don't know you. And as we both seem to want to make this a permanent relationship, it would not be prudent to move too quickly." She realised she had just admitted she wanted Raoul in her life for at least the near future, and hoped he would pick up on the hint.

"How much more would you like to know?"

"Has there been anyone else since your wife?"

"Yes. One woman – Marguerite – thought she would be the one to free me from my misery. She kept calling around, inviting me to parties with her. No, I never kissed her, so you can stop worrying on that account."

"I wasn't worried," said Eve to the open expanse of air in front of her. She was finding the conversation a little odd.

"And you? Have you fallen for anyone else?" said the disembodied voice of Raoul.

"No."

"Will you marry me?" Eve's heart skipped a beat as she thought about the question. Pierre had courted her for six months before asking for her hand – and that was after her father had already given him permission a month into their relationship. On the other hand, if she waited six months for Raoul to ask her, surely that was six months wasted when she was already sure of her answer?

"Where would we live?"

"In the town – I know you thrive there."

"And the girls?"

"Seem to get on well enough. If not, it's a big enough house and Drizella's nearly nine isn't she?"

"Nine and a half, nearly ten."

"There you are – she'll be married and out of the house in ten years. Another two and Anastasia and Cinderella should be married off and it won't matter if they fight."

"Ten years..." muttered Eve, thinking about how the two-day carriage journey had tried her patience. Could she survive ten years in a house with not two but three squabbling girls?

"Do you have an answer for me?"

"Yes, of course I will. When?" Raoul sprung from around the tree and kneeled next to her.

"As soon as possible. I have a horrible feeling you won't let me kiss you until our wedding night, and I'm not prepared to wait too long."

"Shouldn't we be getting back?"

That evening, Eve watched as Raoul taught Anastasia and Drizella one of his favourite songs. She listened as he sang it through with Cinderella first, hearing the girl's crystal clear notes for the first time and envying her perfect soprano voice and her closeness to Raoul, who was playing the harpsichord. Eve had always managed a rough alto, with Drizella being almost tone deaf. Anastasia had never really taken to singing, but had played the flute well enough. Pierre had insisted Eve buy a present for each of the girls when he died. Drizella had received a book and Anastasia a flute – which she practised every day. She heard Drizella's strained attempts to convince a nightingale to sing drowning out the more tuneful Cinderella. Anastasia joined in on her flute when she felt confident enough, Raoul nodding approval. Eve watched as Raoul tried to correct Drizella, suggesting improvements that would make her voice blend more pleasantly with Cinderella's. Lulled by the music, Eve fell asleep in front of the fire, comforted by the image of the three girls clustered around the harpsichord with their father figure.

When she awoke, the fire had burned down and the room was silent and dark. She raised herself on her elbows and realised someone had tucked a blanket over her while she slept. As she sat up, she saw Raoul in a chair at the head of the chaise she had been curled up on. He was watching her still, his dark eyes twinkling in the diminished firelight.

"Welcome back," he said, offering her a drink. She took it automatically and took a long draught. As she swallowed, she realised it was cognac. It took all her self control not to spit it back over Raoul. She drew in a pained breath, glaring at Raoul. "Not a cognac drinker then?"  
"Not really no," she said, her tongue numb from the vile drink, the taste of bile at the back of her throat unbearable. And people enjoy drinking this?

"Ready to go to bed?"

"Yes."

"Do you mind if I escort you?" Eve took Raoul's arm and he helped her stand, guiding her from the music room and up the stairs. As they got to Eve's room, she stopped him with a hand in the centre of his chest.

"I want to make a few things clear," she said.

"Yes?"

"I want to get married in the town, not here."

"Alright."

"My daughters are to receive the same legal rights as Cinderella."

"Yes, of course."

"You will always keep your word."

"Yes."

"And you will never leave me."

"I promise never to leave you – even if it means living to a thousand just to out-live you and dying seconds after you."

"Why seconds?"

"Do you think I could live without you?"

"How sweet," Eve leaned into Raoul, kissing him lightly on the lips. He leaned in and kissed her back, both running their hands up the other's back. She thought that maybe for tonight, she could stop being quite such a prude and pulled him towards her and the door of her room. Raoul deepened the kiss and pushed her against the door. They both struggled to find the door handle, both giggling quietly like fools when forced to separate to let themselves in. Eve opened the bedroom door and Raoul caught her in another kiss, half way into the room.

"Father?" came a voice from down the hall. Eve and Raoul separated slowly.

"Cinderella – what is it darling?"

"I can't sleep – I was frightened."

"I'll come and tuck you in," he said, breaking away from Eve and turning towards Cinderella. "Hold that thought – I'll be back later," he whispered to Eve. He disappeared down the hall with his daughter. Eve went into her room and changed, laying awake on the bed. She was not surprised when Raoul did not reappear.


	10. Unexpected circumstances

Sunlight danced across the bedroom wall and down onto the bed. Eve turned away from the light and curled under the sheets, refusing to believe it was morning. A dark shape crossed in front of the window, then sat on the bed next to her.

"Good morning," said Raoul brightly. Eve groaned and hid further under the sheets. "The girls have already left with Justine. I assume you are going to church today." Eve sat up awkwardly and grimaced at Raoul. She felt nauseous, but dismissed this as the result of too much wine the night before.

"How long have we got?"

"An hour. I sent the girls via the river so they could pick flowers to put on Pierre's grave." Eve dragged herself out of bed and over to her washstand, where Raoul had laid out fresh towels and a warm pitcher of water. She quickly washed and found a dress suitable for church. It had been three months since their marriage, and nine since her first visit to Burgundy. She appeared in front of Raoul, twirling for his approval. He nodded. "Perfect – let's go."

As Lord and Lady Tremaine, Raoul and Eve possessed their own pew at the local church. The girls and Justine sat with them, close to the front of the church and most importantly close to the king. Eve was impressed with Raoul's influence within court – in the three months they had been married, they had been invited to meet with the Privy Council twice and dine with the king and his guests a further four times. She hoped that her elevated status would allow her daughters to one day marry a noble – perhaps one of those spotty-faced youths even now sitting in their vicinity. Eve looked across to her left at Cinderella, singing perfectly with her hymnbook held prettily in front of her. To Cinderella's left was Drizella, trying to drown out her stepsister with her usual tuneless droning. Eve knew that she would have to work hard with Drizella to improve her singing voice. Anastasia, next to Drizella, was mouthing the words to the hymn, barely making a sound. How typical that Cinderella would have the best voice, thought Eve. She and Raoul had promised each other not to compare their children, but Eve knew that Cinderella was a prettier child than either of her daughters and her perfect singing voice was one more reason to be envious of her. Eve knew that any suitor she picked out for Drizella or Anastasia in the future would need to be kept clear of Cinderella, lest they fall for the flaxen-haired beauty.

On the walk home, Justine held Cinderella's hand as she skipped along, singing again. Eve had tried to like the girl but had found her far too sweet for her taste. Eve remembered a night at the palace when Cinderella's habit of making friends with the servants had proved embarrassing as they had lost the girl halfway through the evening. A search was begun, only for Cinderella to be found in the kitchen with the cook, drinking a glass of milk and looking happier than she had all night. Raoul had found this highly amusing of course, while Eve had endured the scathing glares of the nobility who had been forced to search for the girl on the king's command. Typically, by the end of the night all gathered had proclaimed Cinderella a 'treasure' and she was fussed and cosseted by most of the ladies of the court. Anastasia and Drizella had spent the night practising how to stand correctly and swanning around the ballroom, trying to engage other children in polite conversation. They had made a few friends – hopefully one day these may prove useful. Eve turned her attention to the young girls walking in front of her. At the moment, Cinderella was skipping along the road, holding tightly onto Justine's hand. Drizella and Anastasia marched along behind, trying to imitate their mother's perfect posture and faultless grace of moment – they were failing spectacularly. Raoul walked behind with Eve, her arm in his.

"After all, the girls will be spending the afternoon with Justine for their bible studies," said Raoul.

"I'm sorry?" replied Eve, jerked out of her train of thought.

"Have you heard a word I've said?"

"No, sorry. I was thinking of something else. Please repeat what you said."

"I need to go through some paperwork with you this afternoon regarding the farms in Burgundy. The King is agreed that I am more useful to him at court, so my cousin will take charge of the Burgundy estates in exchange for a reasonable sum of money. I want us both to go through the paperwork, hence we need some peace and..."

"And the girls will be with Justine. Are you sure you want to give up Burgundy?"

"Yes. We'll retain our titles, but remain in town and we will not have to travel out to Burgundy every few months. It's better for the girls and we should have more time together."

"I'll help you later. I need to rest when we get home – I'm a little tired."

"Are you quite well?"

"Yes, of course!" snapped Eve. Raoul gave her a look, questioning her response. "I'm just tired. I didn't sleep well last night."

Back at the house, the girls disappeared with Justine. Eve made her way into her bedroom and lay back on the bed. She felt dreadful, her stomach reeling. She twisted to loosen her dress and stood to untie her corset. Almost immediately she felt her stomach recoil and kneeled over, grabbing at the pitcher from the washstand to vomit into. Feeling worse, she rang for a servant. The maid arrived moments later and helped Eve to clean up, Eve changing into her nightgown and laying back on her bed, her head swimming. The maid left to inform Raoul that Eve was unwell and within minutes he appeared at the door.

"What is it darling?"

"Please go away. I can't let you see me like this."

"Too late. Was it something you ate?"

"I hope not – I've felt like this for days."

"I'll call the physician. You should have said earlier."

"I'm fine," snapped Eve, trying to sit up. Her head spun again and she fell back onto the bed.

"Liar."

"It's the sun. I must have been too hot. Please go away."

"I'll go, but the doctor will be here later."

"No..." moaned Eve. "Just leave me here to suffer alone, I don't want anyone." She rested her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. She heard Raoul leave and drifted off to sleep.

Eve woke to the voice of the doctor explaining something to Raoul.

"Due to her age, there may be some complications," whispered the doctor.

"But everything's fine at the moment?" asked Raoul, anxiously.

"Yes. I need to confirm my suspicions with Lady Tremaine – if you could leave us for a moment? I think she's waking up." Raoul left and Eve looked up at the doctor.

"What am I dying of?" asked Eve.

"Nothing. Might I ask when your last bleed was madam?"

"And what had that got to... oh no. Three's enough!"

"When?"

"Two months ago."

"It's quite usual for a woman of your advanced years to feel this way if she should become pregnant. The nausea is quite normal."

"I'm thirty-one, hardly ancient."

"Take things easy and I'll be back in a month." The doctor bowed and turned away from Eve. She closed her eyes and ran a hand over her stomach. She couldn't feel anything different.

"No," she groaned softly. "Not again!"


	11. Pennyroyal and wallflower

Anastasia pursed her lips and started to play the flute again. She was determined to get the sonata right this time, she had tried so hard to perfect the timing. Eve picked up her cue and joined her daughter on the harpsichord. Her swollen stomach slightly discomforting her, Eve picked half-heartedly at the keys, hoping that Anastasia would not foul up this time – she was getting tired and needed to lie down. Neither of her previous pregnancies had been like this – she could only hope the next two months would pass quickly. Eve was becoming drawn and pale, her hair hanging lank down her back and losing its youthful shine. She needed to rest and could barely hold her head up. Finally, Anastasia blew the closing note of the piece and beamed at her mother.

"Well done darling," whispered Eve as Anastasia jumped up and hugged her tight around her neck. Anastasia pecked her on the cheek and ran out of the music room.

"Father – I can do it!" shrieked the little red-head as she bolted downstairs. Eve stood and walked over to the window. She didn't want to admit it, but she was uneasy about this pregnancy. She could feel the nausea from the first few months returning and she knew she was too weak for another month of hell.

As she collapsed back onto a chaise, she felt a small hand tapping her on the shoulder. Cinderella was standing next to her, offering a glass of water. Eve was touched by the child's thoughtfulness.

"Thank-you."

"Do you want anything else step-mother?"

"No. Run along and play." Eve watched her leave and sipped at the water. She had warmed to the girl recently – Cinderella being the only one who seemed to acknowledge that Eve was feeling below par. Cinderella had tried hard to impress her new step-mother, always trying to wait on her hand and foot. Eve wondered if Cinderella's caring manner was what caused her to make friends so easily with the servants. She thought it must be – after all, from Cinderella's childish point-of-view, the servants were only here to look after the family. If Cinderella wanted to take over the role of Eve's nurse, she was quite welcome to. Eve looked at the glass of water and smiled.

* * *

"I did not!" screeched Drizella. 

"Mother – she did! You saw her," appealed Anastasia.

"No I didn't," muttered Eve sleepily, her head on Raoul's shoulder, watching the flames flicker in the hearth. Cinderella was asleep, her head resting on Eve's lap. Drizella and Anastasia were playing chess. Each time one or the other lost a piece, an argument broke out.

"You cheated!"

"Did not!"

"Girls – that's enough. Go up to bed – take Cinderella with you," said Raoul finally. The three disappeared from the room, Eve laying back and into Raoul's lap. He stroked her hair absentmindedly. "I was thinking of taking Anastasia and Drizella to buy some new dresses tomorrow," said Raoul. "I thought you would appreciate the break from their arguments."

"Thank-you. Will Cinderella be staying?"

"Yes. I'd hate to deprive you of your nurse."

"Thank-you."

"If you would like me to send the girls to my cousin's in Burgundy I will, so that you can have some peace."

"Thank-you."

"I love you darling," whispered Raoul.

"nk-you," muttered Eve. Raoul looked down at her in surprise at her reaction, then realised she had fallen asleep. Raoul watched her sleeping face for a moment, then rested his head against the chair and let himself nod off, hoping to get some sleep without having to disturb Eve.

Raoul set off early the next morning, pulling Anastasia and Drizella out of the door quickly to give Eve some peace. About mid-morning, Eve and Cinderella sat watching the birds through the window.

"Cinderella?"

"Yes stepmother?"

"Those white flowers would look nice in the vase on the dining table. Come and pick some with me!"

"Of course!" Both spent the next hour picking flowers in the garden, Cinderella barraging Eve with questions about the flowers.

"And some of those."

"What are they?"

"Wallflowers. They'll complement the pennyroyal we picked earlier. Pass some of that fern – it will set off the arrangement perfectly." Eve tried to remember when she'd last spent such a pleasant morning. At midday they returned to the house to arrange the flowers and plan a special dinner for Raoul when he returned with Drizella and Anastasia.

Meanwhile, in town, Raoul was having problems. He'd never taken a woman clothes shopping before and had not expected the girls to be so fussy. He was already laden down with dresses, piling the packages into the carriage and groaning as the sisters dragged him towards a hat shop.

"You don't need hats!"

"But father, they would look just right – the finishing touch!" begged Drizella.

"No!"

"Just one each!" pleaded Anastasia.

"No!"

"Then I want a necklace," shouted Drizella.

"So do I!" said Anastasia, stomping her foot. "Why can she have a necklace when I can't?"

"You've already had three dresses each and new shoes and new combs and new undergarments. Is there anything else you would like?" asked Raoul sarcastically.

"Yes, I want..." started Drizella.

"Carriage – now – no arguments!" said Raoul, dragging the girls towards the carriage. He helped them in, ignoring their protests and sat next to the driver. "Home!" he commanded, and the carriage set off.

At three o'clock, the order for dinner given and the servants dismissed for the afternoon that they might have some time to rest before dinner, Eve stood in the doorway of the chateau looking towards the road. Without warning, a sharp pain shot up her right side. Thinking it might just be a cramp, Eve ignored it. She could not ignore the next two shooting pains however and dropped to her knees.

"Gustav! Justine! Anyone!" she shrieked. Realising there was no-one else to help her, she called out "Cinderella!" Her stepdaughter came running quickly, throwing her arms around Eve when she arrived.

"What can I do?"

"Run down to town – fetch the doctor."

"I don't know where he lives."

"Just run to town – tell someone we need the doctor straight away."

"I don't know the way! I'm scared," sobbed Cinderella, hanging onto Eve's shoulder. Eve hugged her back, tightening her hold as another cramp passed through her stomach. It was too early – she should not be in labour yet.

"Cinderella – please! You can see the town from here just run in a straight line – you'll find it!" Eve gasped as a more painful twinge hit her, the pain coursing up her waist and through her ribs. "Please," begged Eve. "Just go – please!"

"I won't leave you!" replied Cinderella, hugging Eve closer to her.

Raoul saw Cinderella in the doorway as the carriage pulled up outside the chateau. Cinderella ran to him and buried her face in his shoulder, crying bitterly.

"Cinderella? Darling?" he coaxed into her hair. Cinderella was unable to speak, overcome with fright. Behind Raoul, Drizella and Anastasia jumped down from the carriage and headed into the house. Two shrieks from the doorway alerted Raoul and he picked up Cinderella before heading toward it.

Eve was just inside the hall, laying on her back and barely breathing. Raoul dropped Cinderella to the floor and kneeled to Eve's side. He picked up her shoulders and moved her onto his lap, stroking her face gently. The driver had followed Raoul into the house, but once he saw what had happened he sprinted out again and drove like a maniac to the town to fetch the doctor. Raoul picked up Eve in his arms and carried her into the parlour, laying her gently onto the chaise. He tried to ignore her pallid expression, the blood on her dress, the pained expression on her face. Raoul touched his forehead to Eve's and wept silent tears as he waited for the worst.

Hours later, the doctor closed the parlour door behind him. Raoul rushed up.

"Well?" he asked.

"She's lost the child sir. It was a boy." Raoul stared at the doctor in disbelief.

"Will she live?"

"It's too early to say. The maids have helped me to – dispose – of the baby. If she lives, she'll need to be told sooner rather than later. I'm sorry sir."

"Thank-you. Is there anything else we can do to help her?"

"No. Only time can help her now."

"Thank-you doctor. Come back in the morning. We will need you then, either way." Raoul's self-control failed as he turned and headed into the parlour. Tears streaming down his face, he hovered at the foot of the chaise and cried bitterly for some time. Part of him knew that their lives had been that little bit too perfect and that he should somehow have expected this. The greater part resented the fact that, despite popular belief, lightning did seem to strike twice. Eve was still asleep, white-faced and moaning softly. Raoul settled in a chair and studied Eve's face as the sunlight faded and night settled on the Tremaine household.


	12. A new beginning

Rain pelted against the chateau windows as Raoul and the three girls ate their dinner in silence in the opulent dining room. Raoul looked across the table to Eve's chair and paused for a moment before continuing eating. It had been a month since Eve had lost their child and still she had refused to leave their room and come downstairs. She had consigned Raoul to a guestroom and it had been some days since he'd last spoken to her – a maid her only contact to the outside world. Anastasia and Drizella had taken to spending all day in the library – the door looked out onto the staircase and every day they surreptitiously kept watch in the hope their mother would venture downstairs. Cinderella followed her father everywhere, holding his hand and nestling on his knee when he sat down. He knew that Cinderella felt responsible for causing Eve to lose the baby and he hoped the girl would one day realise it was not her fault. The dinner finished, Raoul took the girls upstairs and put them to bed, singing Cinderella to sleep. As he closed Cinderella's door, he heard a sound up the hallway. He turned, hoping to see Eve but instead finding Anastasia watching him carefully. He walked towards her and without a word scooped her up into his arms. She cuddled into his neck and held him tight for a moment.

"When can we see mother again?" asked Anastasia.

"She will come out when she's better Ani," he replied, stroking the long auburn hair that cascaded down Anastasia's back. "I promise that won't be long."

"Will you tell her I miss her?" Anastasia shot back, looking into Raoul's face.

"Of course I will. Now let's get you to bed!" Raoul swung Anastasia upside down and she shrieked in fright before collapsing into giggles. He tucked Anastasia in, then left her room. He stared at the doorhandle for a moment, then headed for Eve's room and knocked quietly. There was no answer so he tried the handle himself, but found it locked. He knocked again, loudly this time and heard a rustling.

"Eve, I know you're awake. Open the door!" There was no reply. "Open the door!" He heard Eve approaching, her footsteps soft on the thick carpet.

"It's late Raoul, leave me alone." She started to move from the door again. Raoul decided he'd had enough.

"Open the door, or I will break it down!" he shouted. When there was no reply, he started pushing the door, trying to force the handle. The noise brought the girls from their rooms and alerted the servants, two maids arriving from the scullery. "Put the girls to bed!" he shouted at the maids. He kicked at the lock twice more, splintering the door frame and breaking the lock. He pushed open the remnants of the door and looked inside.

Eve was sitting on the hearthrug, staring into the floor. Raoul closed the door behind him as best as he could and walked over to her, kneeling behind her and resting his hands on her shoulders. She shrugged him off.

"How long is this going to continue?" asked Raoul. Eve looked up at him. "The girls miss you Eve – Anastasia asks for you every night and Drizella won't talk. Cinderella follows me everywhere, always on the verge of crying because she thinks she's to blame for..." Raoul faltered.

"She is to blame. She could have fetched the doctor."

"It was too late. By the time you felt the first pain, you had already lost the child." Raoul saw Eve stiffen and sensed she was not ready for this confrontation.

"I did nothing wrong – it was not my fault!" Eve hugged her knees to her chin. "It was not my fault!"

"I know. But it was not Cinderella's fault either." Raoul kneeled behind Eve and slipped his arms around her. "You have three girls in this house that need their mother. They miss you Eve."

"I just need some time."

"The girls need you now. I need you. At least come downstairs and eat with us – let them see that you will be a part of their lives again."

"Not yet."

"When?"

"I don't know Raoul!" Eve fought her way from Raoul's embrace until she was standing. "When I've forgotten that our child is dead – when I can look your daughter in the face and not hate her!"

"You hate me?" asked a small voice from the door. Eve and Raoul turned in horror to see Cinderella listening at the gap of the door. Raoul went to confront her, only to find Anastasia and Drizella standing behind Cinderella. Raoul decided to use the girls against Eve to force her into breaking her confinement.

"Of course not Cinderella – your stepmother is just angry at me for breaking the door. Come in you two – don't you want to wish your mother goodnight?" Raoul held the door open for the three girls to pile into the room. Drizella rushed up to Eve and slammed into her at full speed, wrapping her arms tightly around her mother's waist and burying her head in her dress. Anastasia hugged her mother around Drizella. Eve touched Drizella's hair and played with the curls with her right hand.

"You need a haircut," said Eve quietly. She turned to Anastasia, who was now sobbing into Eve's hip. "Didn't I always teach you to control your emotions? Have I been that bad a mother?" She looked down at her daughters and then kneeled, pulling both close to her and hugging them hard. "Goodnight Drizella. Goodnight Anastasia." She pecked each girl on the forehead quickly, then stood and ushered the girls out of the room. She turned to face Raoul and Cinderella.

Cinderella stepped forward and looked up at Eve.

"I'm sorry I didn't run for the doctor stepmother." Cinderella looked down at her hands again. "Please forgive me." Raoul looked at Eve, trying to gauge what her response what be.

"Of course I have to forgive you, you're only a child," said Eve quietly. Cinderella smiled and looked up at Eve, walking towards her and reaching around her waist for a hug. Eve felt a lump come to her throat and signalled for Raoul to remove the girl. "Goodnight Cinderella." Eve strode to the window and leaned against the frame, her back to Raoul and Cinderella. Confused, Cinderella made towards Eve but was pulled back by her father.

"Come Cinderella. Your stepmother is tired and needs to rest." He took Cinderella back to her room.

Eve looked out the window and down into the garden, silent tears running down her cheeks. She remembered how Cinderella had held her close while she lost Raoul's child, their baby. She could remember the promises Cinderella had made to look after her, to never leave her and do anything for her and tried not to hate the girl for failing to fetch the doctor. She tried to feel something for the perfect little angel that Raoul doted on, but found only emptiness. There had been a chance she could be a mother to Cinderella, but not now. She reminded her of the worst moments of her life – how could she ever be close to her now? Behind Eve, Raoul re-entered the room.

"I'm sorry," he started. Eve spun around.

"Sorry? I told you I was not ready to speak to them – or to you – and you parade them in here to say goodnight like everything was back to normal. What were you thinking?"

"I wanted my wife back – the girls wanted their mother. And Cinderella wanted to apologise."

"I need to be left alone Raoul – you have no idea how much this hurts," Eve realised she was crying, her voice cracking as she tried to speak. "Everything was perfect and now once again my family is torn apart and all I want is to hide inside this shell forever."

"I can't let you do that."

"Why not? Why the hell not?"

"Because I love you. And I know that hiding oneself away does not help matters." Raoul walked up to Eve and pulled her close to him, kissing her lightly on the lips. "I love you," he whispered.

"I wish I could believe you," said Eve, pulling away. "How could you love this – I can't even keep our baby alive!" she laughed hysterically as she walked backwards to the bed and lay down. "What did you think Raoul – make her cuddle the girls and give her a kiss and that will make all the bad things go away? Life doesn't work like that Raoul. You can't have your wife back, she died a long time ago, with the baby that should have been born and the dream that could have been ours. Just go away." Eve curled up on the bed, fully clothed. "I need to sleep now. Please go away." She buried her face in a pillow, her laughter subsiding into fierce sobbing. Raoul stood staring at her for a moment, then walked out.

The next morning dawned and with it another silent breakfast. Anastasia and Drizella both seemed in better moods this morning, but Cinderella looked as though she had not slept all night. Raoul looked drawn, his features distorted by a night's worrying and praying that Eve would recover.

"Good morning," came a voice from the doorway. Raoul turned to see Eve standing casually against the doorframe. "I hope I'm not too late."

"Of course not – please join us!" said Raoul. Eve took her place at the table and rather nervously looked over at him, noticing his pale complexion. The servants entered with the breakfast dishes, only slightly reacting to Eve's presence as became their training. The rest of the meal continued in an awkward silence, until Anastasia finally piped up.

"Mother, would it be alright if you listened to me play the flute later? I have been practising ever so hard and..."

"I think your mother would prefer some peace, Anastasia," cut in Raoul.

"No – I would like to listen to you Anastasia. Perhaps later this afternoon – after your lessons this morning."

"Lessons?" asked Drizella.

"Of course – I take it Justine is still educating you three in the history of our fair country?"

"But mother..." started Drizella.

"That's not fair!" said Anastasia. "I hate history!"

"Yes, she is," said Cinderella. "But we haven't been very good students recently." She looked down into her lap.

"Then you must all study harder from this point on." Eve took pains not to look at Cinderella as she answered. "Your father and I will need to talk this morning. We expect some privacy."

After the meal, Raoul and Eve sat in the library together.

"What made you change your mind?" asked Raoul.

"The fact you broke down the door to talk to me," answered Eve.

"So not the kiss?"

"No, the kiss was clichéd. Breaking down the door, while extreme, was at least unusual."

"I do love you, you do know that?"

"Yes. I do know that."

"You said last night that you didn't believe me."

"I said a lot of stupid things last night. But one thing I must ask you to do – keep Cinderella away from me. I don't blame her Raoul, but I can't stand to have her near me, constantly reminding me of what happened."

"Is that fair?"

"No, but it is necessary. Please Raoul."

"For a week. Then you must start talking to her again. Could I ask you something?"

"Yes?"

"Do you still love me?" Raoul looked across at Eve. "You haven't said so for some time."

"Do I really need to say it?" asked Eve, reaching across and stroking Raoul's face. She smiled as he shook his head and stood. "Are you coming? I thought we could help our daughters with their history work."

"Of course. Eve?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for coming down this morning."


	13. Easter

It was Easter Sunday and the town was bedecked in flowers in commemoration of the most important day in the Christian calendar. Cinderella and Anastasia danced ahead of the rest of their family, skirting around the crowd as they made their way home. Raoul had insisted they walk into town to go to church each Sunday in order to give the servants some free time on what should be a day of rest. Drizella's shoes were pinching and she whined about this fact to Eve throughout their journey. Eve held onto Raoul's arm as they walked, Drizella clinging to Eve's free hand. In the bright April sunshine, Eve felt herself starting to enjoy life once more – the memory of her miscarriage still strong, but affecting her mood less and less with each passing day. She looked ahead at Cinderella and Anastasia and felt a twinge of pain in her heart – she still found it hard to accept that Cinderella had been her only support in a difficult situation.

When they arrived home, the girls retreated upstairs to continue their bible studies with Justine. Eve settled down at the harpsichord and started to play, her mood lightening with the music. Raoul walked up and circled his arms around her waist, kneeling behind her to rest his head on her back. Eve continued to play, leaning back into Raoul and relaxing as she felt his closeness. They sat like that for some time, neither wanting to break the mood. Eve finished the song she was playing and started on another. Raoul reached forward and took Eve's wrists in his hands, lifting her hands away from the keys and settling them into her lap. He nuzzled into her neck, kissing her lightly on the nape of her neck. Eve sighed happily. It had been some time since she was able to bear Raoul touching her like this and felt her old desire for Raoul rekindling.

"Father?" said Cinderella from the door. The mood in the room changed instantly, Eve sitting bolt upright and Raoul standing to greet his daughter. "Could you come upstairs and help me with my studies?"

"Of course. Run along and I shall be there presently." Cinderella darted out of the room, followed quickly by Raoul. In deference of the fact he was leaving Eve behind, he turned and mouthed "Sorry!" to her as he reached the door. Eve shrugged and turned back to the harpsichord, playing a melancholy tune to match her mood.

Drizella and Anastasia arrived arguing for dinner that night. Drizella was sure that her new dress was better than Anastasia's and was taking pains to make sure her sister was aware of that fact. Anastasia on the other hand had decided that her sister looked like a pig whatever she was wearing and was making her views equally well heard. Eve glared at the two of them as they entered the dining room still squabbling. They took one look at Eve's face, decided wordlessly that their argument was not worth bothering their mother with and sat down silently. Dinner was served even though Raoul and Cinderella had not appeared yet, the servants used to Lord Tremaine taking extra time with his daughter lately. He was trying to compensate for Eve's coldness towards the girl, but in doing so was effectively splitting the family in two. Eve ate in silence, occasionally staring menacingly at the door and daring it to open. Her daughters finished and looked to her for permission to leave. She waved a hand dismissively and Drizella and Anastasia left, picking up their earlier argument as soon as they left the room. Eve drummed her hand on the table and watched the clock for half an hour. The servants cleared the table around her, leaving the two place settings for Raoul and Cinderella. With no sign of her husband or stepdaughter, Eve stood and stormed off to the music room. She locked the door behind her and hammered out a Mozart piece on the piano to vent her anger.

Two hours later, a knock on the music room door interrupted Eve. She walked over and unlocked the door, leaning against it as she acknowledged her husband.

"Can I come in?" asked Raoul.

"It's your house," answered Eve. She turned and walked off to the fire, sitting down on the chaise and waiting for Raoul's apology. He walked up and sat beside her gingerly.

"Sorry," he said simply. "I didn't notice the time. Cinderella went through her bible studies and started asking me about our military history. Then we started on the classics and before I knew it, it was getting darker and dinner had been and gone. I'm sorry I didn't come down."

"It's alright. I understand you need to spend every waking minute with your daughter."

"That's not true – I try to spend time with you as much as I can."

"What about Drizella and Anastasia?"

"They have your company."

"But not yours Raoul. And they miss you far more than Cinderella misses me, I can assure you of that. You are at least pleasant to my daughters."

"While you are cold towards mine."

"I've told you I cannot help that," spat back Eve, tired of this argument. She could not – would not – forgive Cinderella for being there while she lost her child. Even if it was not Cinderella's fault.

"You will try to control your feelings in front of her," said Raoul, tired of the constant tension between his wife and daughter.

"Shall I try as hard as you do when you try to spend time with me?" asked Eve sarcastically, before standing and storming off to the window. It was dark outside and she could not see anything, but she had her back to Raoul and that was all that concerned her for now.

"You are the most important thing in my life Eve. You know that."

"Prove it!" she spun around, angry now as she felt that Raoul was lying to her. "Next time we are interrupted by Cinderella, send her away. Next time I want to do something and Cinderella disagrees, stick to my plans."

"No. You will not make me choose between you and my daughter!"

"You already have – and you've chosen her!" shouted Eve.

"Don't do this – I cannot win this argument without hurting either you or Cinderella."

"And God forbid you do the latter," snapped Eve. "Goodnight." Eve stormed out of the room and headed to bed. Raoul started to follow her, then stopped. He had spent his time feeling alternatively guilty then sympathetic for Eve's mood. He had endured her mood swings and temper tantrums for long enough. His patience was wearing thin and he was not going to spend another night apologising for being able to enjoy his time with his daughter. He picked a book from the shelf and sat down to read it on the chaise. As usual, Cinderella was unable to sleep and arrived downstairs to cuddle up to her father. Raoul let Cinderella curl up on his lap and stroked her hair as she fell asleep. He put down his book and checked the time – it was gone midnight. Raoul carried Cinderella upstairs and put her to bed, closed her bedroom door and headed for the room he shared with Eve.

Eve was sleeping flat on her back in the bed, breathing quietly. Raoul locked the door behind him and grinned in the moonlight. He removed his clothes quickly and crept forward to the bed, pausing to pick up a flower from the vase on Eve's dressing table. Slowly, he pulled off the bedcovers and looked down at the sleeping body of his wife. She had a fantastic figure. He reached down to unbutton her nightclothes, touching her chest lightly.

"Don't even think about it," said Eve without batting an eyelid. Raoul cried out in frustration and collapsed onto the bed next to Eve, throwing the bedcovers over them both in disgust. Eve smiled and curled onto her side, resting her head on Raoul's chest. He sighed and put an arm around her, pulling her close. This is some improvement at least, thought Raoul. Within ten minutes, the two were asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, Raoul took Cinderella horse-riding on her new chestnut stallion. As Cinderella petted the horse in the courtyard in front of the house after the ride, Raoul looked up at the library window. Eve was watching him with a blank look, nursing Lucifer in her arms and flanked by Drizella and Anastasia. He raised a hand to wave at the window, receiving enthusiastic waves and grins from Drizella and Anastasia. Eve simply carried on stroking Lucifer, her expression unchanged. He hurried Cinderella into the stable and helped her to rub down the horse.

Raoul had arranged for Justine to take the girls into town that afternoon so that Eve and himself would have some time alone. As the girls were bundled into the carriage he watched while Eve gave another set of instructions to Justine about how the girls were not to be spoiled with treats this time. He went to Justine's rescue, pulling Eve back and holding onto her arm. Justine told the girls to wave goodbye as the carriage left, Raoul and Eve waving back until the carriage was out of sight. Raoul turned to Eve.

"Alone at last," he said lecherously, pulling her close for a kiss.

"Not here," Eve replied, pushing him away.

"Where then?"

"What makes you think I've forgiven you?"

"Your eyes."

"They're lying."

"No they're not. What do I have to do for a kiss?" he asked, stepping back and kneeling down. "I'd offer to marry you, but we've already done that. Hold on," he said, standing up. "As your husband, I order you to kiss me!" He waited, arms crossed for her response. Eve held her hands behind her back, looking at Raoul with interest.

"I'm sorry, did you expect that to work?" she asked mockingly. Raoul took a step forward and Eve backed off. "You've given the servants the day off Raoul – so you see I have far too much to do around the house to have time to fool around with you." Raoul took another step forward and Eve backed off again.

"I wasn't fooling around," pouted Raoul, reaching forward to hold Eve but finding her just out of arms' reach. "What do I have to do?"

"Catch me," whispered Eve, darting off behind the house. It took Raoul a few seconds to realise what she meant, by which time Eve had a considerable head-start. He grinned as the distance between them closed, catching up with her at the back of the house in the orchard. He caught her around the waist and pulled her down onto the grass. She laughed as the two wrestled for a moment on the lawn, then gave up.

"Welcome back," Raoul whispered, kissing her lightly.


	14. June

The sun burned brightly on a fresh June morning as Raoul spurred his horse onwards towards the chateau. He felt relaxed and smiled when he saw Eve waiting on the doorstep for him. He swung down from the saddle and passed the reins to a waiting groom.

"Did you speak to Signor Bedevici? Will he tutor the girls?" asked Eve.

"Yes. So Justine can leave as soon as she wants to get married."

"It will be so hard without her here – I've grown used to having her here to talk to."

"The girls are old enough to look after themselves. And with Bedevici tutoring them they should be able to impress anyone at court." Raoul held Eve's waist as he whisked her into the house. "It's about time the girls learned a little independence."

"I agree." Eve looked into the library where the three girls were pretending to study history while reading fairy tales. Perhaps they were still just children. "Are you sure we don't need another governess?"

"Positive. I'll go and give Justine the good news."

Two weeks later, Justine waved goodbye to the Tremaine household as she headed home to her mother's in preparation for the wedding. The girls sobbed while Eve and Raoul waved at her carriage until it was out of sight. While the girls disappeared upstairs, Eve headed out to the garden where she was joined by Raoul.

"Lovely day," he commented.

"Yes. Raoul?"

"Yes?"

"Could we go into town later? We haven't been out as a family for so long."

"Of course. Perhaps you can order a new dress."

"Perhaps."

"And then when it's ready you could wear that new dress for me and I could help you remove it and..."

"Go away."

"Leaving right away. I'll tell the girls to get ready."

An hour later, Eve ushered Anastasia and Drizella into the carriage. She turned to Raoul.

"Are you sure you can't come with us?" she asked softly.

"Cinderella is sick and as Justine's left we don't have anyone else to stay with her. I'm sorry – I suppose we did need a new governess after all."

"Shall I pick anything up for you?"

"No. I'll see you soon," he finished, pecking her on the cheek. Eve checked that her daughters were not watching and pulled Raoul closer for a more intimate kiss. Releasing him with a smile, she jumped up into the carriage and the driver headed off.

In town, Anastasia and Drizella fussed over the jeweller's wares and were forcibly dragged from the shop by Eve when they both insisted they needed new necklaces. Eve headed to various stalls and weighed down the two girls with packages from the bakers, butcher and haberdashery shops, which steadied them a little. After four hours – much longer than Eve had intended to spend in town – they headed home. Eve listened to the girls arguing over who had been forced to carry more packages and why it was the other one's fault that they didn't have new necklaces and shoes and... Used to this by now, Eve drifted off to sleep in the back of the carriage.

The carriage stopped with a jolt and Eve woke up, looking out of the window towards the door of the chateau. She made to get out of the carriage, but the driver held the door closed and shook his head.

"Please wait madam – I will find out what is going on." He scurried away quickly. Eve leaned out of the carriage and saw a black horse tethered near to the door of the chateau. She recognised it as the doctor's horse and opened the door of the carriage quickly, jumping down.

"Girls, stay here." She walked into the chateau and saw servants running across her vision, tidying the chateau and drawing curtains. The doctor was talking to her driver in hushed tones. When they saw her they each offered an arm in support. "Is it one of the servants?" she asked.

"No madam – you should sit down."

"It's Raoul isn't it? What happened?"

"He slipped down the stairs madam," answered the doctor. Eve laughed with relief.

"Is that all? Can I see him?" She looked at the doctor's face and understanding slowly dawned.

"I'm sorry madam. He broke his neck when he fell. One of the servants saw him fall and tried to help him, but his lordship had died instantly. I'm sorry Lady Tremaine." The doctor held onto Eve and steadied her for a moment, worried that she hadn't reacted as yet.

"Can I see him?" Eve repeated.

"Yes madam. I've laid out the body in the bed upstairs. Would you like me to arrange for an undertaker to visit with you later?"

"That would be very kind. My thanks." Eve headed slowly up the stairs, then turned to the driver. "Please see that my daughters are informed of the situation and keep them in the library." Heart pounding, Eve forced herself upstairs and into the bedroom she had shared with Raoul. His body lay in an unnaturally dignified poise, eyes closed and arms lying straight down by his sides. She watched him for a moment, as if to catch him drawing breath or smirking under that deathly pallor. Legs shaking, she made her way to the bed and stroked his head softly. "Raoul? Don't do this. You can't leave me alone – not like this." Eve kneeled down and embraced Raoul one last time and kissed him lightly to say goodbye. Tears rolled softly down her face as she stood and turned to leave the room. By the time she reached the door, her face was an expressionless mask, the servants not daring to ask her if she was alright or if she needed anything.

That night, Eve sat watching Raoul by candlelight, her lonely vigil interrupted only twice by servants concerned for her well-being. In all that time, Eve fought against the pain that threatened to overcome her. Raoul had been her last chance for happiness and now he was gone forever, leaving her behind. To lose one husband was considered unfortunate, but to lose two? Eve tried not to think of the reaction of the townsfolk and realised she was irrationally blaming Cinderella again. She was dismayed to find she could shed no further tears for Raoul, the pain she felt drying her tears before they fell.

The undertaker had arranged to remove the body the next morning and Eve stood watching Raoul until the very last, still hoping that he would revive. Cinderella had spent the morning kneeling next to the bed, her arms cushioning her head as she wept for her father. When the undertaker arrived, Eve fetched her two daughters to say goodbye to their stepfather. As they stood in the doorway, Drizella and Anastasia holding tightly to their mother's hands, Eve looked down to Cinderella with barely concealed contempt. She was left with the girl as part of the inheritance – the chateau would pass to Cinderella through Raoul's will and Eve would have to raise a child she could not love in order to secure a home for her own daughters. The undertaker entered and a servant gently removed Cinderella. Drizella and Anastasia rushed forward, gave Raoul a hurried embrace and ran out to their rooms. As the undertaker waited for Eve's reaction, Eve stared forward at the bed and felt part of her heart close to the world forever. She turned and left the room, leaving the undertaker speechless. He signalled to his helpers and they carefully removed Lord Raoul Tremaine from the chateau.


	15. Cinderella the servant

Eve watched wordlessly as Raoul's coffin was placed into the Tremaine crypt and the final funeral rites were completed. Cinderella sobbed into a maid's arm while Drizella and Anastasia held each other for support. A circle cleared around Eve as the mourners departed, until she was left facing the crypt alone. She stood for some time, unspeaking, staring at the crypt gates with a fixed, sombre expression. Drizella walked up to her and touched her arm softly.

"Mother? Can we go home now?"

"Yes Drizella. The servants will take you and your sister home. I am going to remain here a little while longer."

"Of course madam – shall we send the driver back for you later?" asked the maid.

"I'll walk."

"Do you wish us to take Cinderella home as well madam?" Eve turned and looked at the young girl still sobbing into the maid's arm with obvious dislike.

"Yes of course. Now go." Eve faced the crypt again as the remnants of her household left her behind.

After a while, Eve wandered up to the cold stone of the crypt and lay her hand on the solid door. There was no-one else in the churchyard and the sun was beginning to set, the warm evening turning chilly as it did so. Eve rested her head against the stone and tried not to remember her life with Raoul. She remembered Pierre and their life together and how the father of her children had been stolen from her. In her mind, she played through the funeral again, watching Pierre's coffin as it left her sight forever to enter his family's crypt. Part of her had died that day. She remembered the dance and how Raoul had given her hope of regaining some happiness in life. She saw them dancing again, felt their first kiss and remembered how he'd found her at the small cottage. Their wedding day had past quickly, with the few wonderful months before her pregnancy fading now in the memory of her miscarriage. And now she was standing outside another crypt having lost another husband with no hope of rescue this time. She thumped the wall of the crypt hard. As the pain coursed up from her hand, she thumped the wall again and again, building up a rhythm as the tension of the previous days released in painful sobs. Drumming her hands against the stone wall, Eve shrieked with grief as she collapsed to her knees, screaming for reality to change back to what it should be. As dusk gave way to night, her sobs subsided and she left the graveyard.

Drizella and Anastasia were playing in the hall when Eve arrived home. They ran to their mother and threw their arms around her. Eve hugged them both hard as a final embrace, then pushed them back and straightened her dress. She nodded approvingly when they straightened their postures and changed their gleeful, smiling faces to more demure expressions. Eve looked down at her two daughters – above all, she would have to ensure they married well – and young.

"Girls, go to bed. Send your stepsister to talk with me in the library in an hour." She remained unnaturally calm as she carried out the plan she'd worked out on the way home. She signalled to a servant, who came scurrying to her side.

"Yes madam?"

"Summon the other servants and have them assemble in the kitchen immediately. I need to speak with you all."

Down in the kitchen, the last of the servants crept in and huddled with the others. Eve waited for silence, then spoke softly.

"I am sure you all mourn the passing of Lord Tremaine as much as I, but we must now turn our attention to those still living in the chateau. Lord Tremaine sold much of his estate to his brother, leaving us with only a modest income and this house. I am afraid I must ask you all to leave in the morning – for the sake of the girls. I am so sorry." It was a lie and Eve knew it – she had enough money to live comfortably for some time with the income the estate would bring her. However she was determined that her daughters would receive only the best and to do that, she was prepared to bankrupt herself to make the perfect life and eventually a perfect match for each of her daughters. The servants looked shocked, but sympathetic. Some tried to offer comfort to Eve, but she could not accept it and turned coldly away to return upstairs. The servants were an unnecessary comfort when she had a perfect replacement in mind.

Cinderella stood when her stepmother entered the library.

"Stepmother?"

"Sit down Cinderella. As you are aware, your father has left the house to you."

"Yes, stepmother."

"But as your legal guardian I must hold the house in trust for you until you come of age. Unfortunately for you, that is going to mean some changes around here. Firstly, we cannot afford the servants or your tutor any longer."

"But father said I must learn Latin if I am to impress at court," said Cinderella cried desperately.

"Please don't forget it was because of you that your father fell that day," replied Eve harshly. She stopped the feeling of guilt before it made her apologise – Raoul would have disapproved of her hurting Cinderella. As expected, Cinderella became more compliant immediately.

"Yes stepmother. I'm sorry stepmother."

"Your father would not have wanted us to fight Cinderella."

"Of course not stepmother."

"And he would not have wanted this house to fall to rack and ruin now would he?"

"No stepmother."

"Then it is agreed – you will share the responsibility of the upkeep of the chateau with myself and your stepsisters. In the morning, I want you to prepare breakfast for your stepsisters."

"What about you?"

"I will already be awake, making sure the servants leave."

"What time should I make breakfast?"

"Seven."

The next morning, Eve watched as the last of the servants walked down the road from the chateau. Satisfied that the chateau was now completely under her control, Eve walked down to the kitchen and smiled as she saw Cinderella industriously making breakfast for her two stepsisters.

"Very good Cinderella."

"Thank-you, stepmother."

"After you take up the trays, perhaps you could set about dusting in the music room?"

"Yes stepmother." Cinderella picked up the breakfast trays and staggered up the stairs without any of the grace that would come naturally in later life. Eve felt a brief twinge of guilt – if her plan worked, the girl would accept her role as servant and within a few years would forget her father's plans to have her wed to a duke at court. The guilt became easier to live with over the next few weeks and months as Eve concentrated solely on the advancement of her own two, selfish daughters who she spoiled with dresses and jewellery.

Years later, on the night of Cinderella's seventeenth birthday, Eve was sorting through some old papers when she came across an old music sheet. She placed it on the piano and sat down to play. The familiar notes of "Sing, Sweet Nightingale" echoed around the still house as Eve played. Unbidden, memories of a night long ago when Raoul, Eve and the three girls had gathered around the piano came flooding back. Eve played through the song twice more, closing her eyes and basking in the memory of Raoul and his gentleness. As she closed the piano lid, she turned to see Cinderella dressed in a ragged skirt and top watching her, a broom held in her hand.

"Yes Cinderella?" asked Eve quietly.

"I have finished the library. Will there be anything else?"

"No Cinderella. Oh yes, make sure the locks are all secure then you may go to bed." She had moved the girl into the attic tower a year earlier, moving the remainder of Raoul's keepsakes into the tower out of the way.

"Is there nothing else stepmother?" asked Cinderella, a pleading look in her eyes. Eve glared back harshly.

"No. If I think of something, I will call you."

"Yes, stepmother. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Cinderella." Eve watched Cinderella leave the room and felt resentful that the girl had implied she wanted to talk about Raoul. Or perhaps she had wanted some semblance of a mother-daughter relationship with her stepmother. Or maybe there was some other reason she'd expected more from Eve this night. No matter, the girl was content to be a servant and a servant she would stay. Eve made a mental note to teach the song she had found to her two daughters and left the music room. She would start the music lesson in the morning, while Cinderella cleaned the hallway. In the quiet music room, a passing breeze fluttered the pages of the "Nightingale" manuscript. The fire flared and for a moment the house remembered the love and affection of the past. The memory faded with the light, and silence descended once more on Chateau Tremaine.

* * *

**C'est finis**


End file.
